Compromises
by crazy-chocoholik
Summary: It is after the war. Draco and Hermoine end up face to face under unforseen circumstances. How will they react? Will they revert back to the Hogwarts days? or will they put aside their differences and compromise... to become friends, or perhaps more...
1. Chapter 1

**Compromises**

Disclaimer: I only own this plot. Anything recognisable is owned by J.K Rowling. Also this story is inspired by the incredible fanfic: Broken by inadaze22.

A/N: Warning, this is my first fic EVER. Actually my first attempt at ACTUAL major writing ever, but I decided to give it a go… with my favourite characters: Draco and Hermione along for the ride! So here's the deal, please forgive any mistakes… and possibly offer help with the grammar, mine is kinda iffy. Hopefully the writing gets better as we progress through the story. I have this roughly planned out, so I am – by all means – GOING TO FINISH THIS, however long it takes :D. Support is welcome, and please… be gentle :P. Ok enough yabbering (though I can't promise a lack of it in future notes haha)… Here it is. *fanfare + confetti*

**Chapter 1: Gotta love Mondays**

Hermione Granger sighed as she looked at herself in the dresser. Same old frizzy hair, same old brown eyes, same old… She narrowed her eyes and ceased continuing with that train of thought. It was a new beginning. It was going to be a good day. She pulled a face at herself in the mirror and turned away before she could find something else to criticize. _Sigh…_ _Another Monday_. With that thought Hermione disapparated from her London flat.

The gentle playing wind turned into a bully as it left battered leaves in its wake. The pleasant breeze had turned into a full-fledged gale as soon as Hermione Granger had apparated into quite village of Hogsmeade. Looking around she noticed that nothing much had changed. She surveyed her snow covered surroundings. The Three Broomsticks looked the same albeit a bit more dilapidated. She quickly looked away before Madam Rosmerta could catch her eye and invite her in for a butterbeer. From the corner of her eye Hermione glanced curiously at Rosmerta, the witch didn't have any wrinkles but her hair had an edge of grey at the corners. It looked quite austere actually. Looking around, Hermione noticed that Honeydukes was still as popular as ever, she caught the sound of chatter and laughter on the wind as yet another patron entered the shop to enjoy the relaxed atmosphere inside. Ignoring the rumble of her stomach Hermione turned away from the inviting haven and stomped towards the castle, causing a flurry of snow to cascade down from the awning above a stall. The frown on her forehead deepened. She had slowly turned into a complete and utter sourpuss. No other word for it. Other people's happiness annoyed her; she had morphed into a bitter person after the war. _Kinda like an all-year scrooge._ Hermione smirked at her own observation. A mirthless, cold smirk.

Gazing around she noticed the road had turned quiet. This journey was quite different without the chatter of her fellow classmates. _A lot longer too_, she grumbled, lengthening her strides to loosen the cold from the muscles of her legs. She rounded a corner and suddenly the castle, in all its glory, was in front of her. _Hogwarts._ The turrets were not as high as she remembered, the grassy Quidditch fields not as green. The gates weren't as awe-inspiring and the Black Lake not as exciting. Or maybe it was just her new pessimistic take on life. Or… maybe she had finally grown up… at the age of twenty-three. Chuckling acidulously she gazed up at her old school. She was back where it had all started. _Great_. Life really had come a full circle.

_Go away, _mumbled Draco Malfoy, rolling over and covering his face with the goose-down blanket.

"Master! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! You told Pepper to wake you up on Monday, and IT IS MONDAY! WAKE UP!" the shrill house-elf berated her master in a very motherly fashion.

"FINE!" roared Draco, giving up his feeble attempts to block out Pepper with his pillow.

"I'm up, I'm up… why in Merlin's name did I ask you to disturb my precious sleep?" Draco muttered as he lazily pushed himself off the King size bed and sauntered over to his ornate dresser. Running his hands through his long-ish blond hair he rubbed his stone grey eyes.

"Job interview, Master Draco. Do not tell Pepper that Master forgot! Pepper is so very proud of her Master, looking for a job! You need to look…"

"Pepper!" Draco cut off the doting elf before she went blue in the face. "It was a rhetorical question." With that remark Draco shut the door of the bathroom and started the shower.

Standing under the pelting hot water pouring from the showerhead Draco let his thoughts drift. _Pepper was right_, _I am pretty damn proud too. Persuading mother to let me leave the business wasn't an easy task. What with father gallivanting around the world, taking longer and longer 'personal' trips… But this is my life dammit! I am sick of sitting in a conference room around pompous, hypocritical, old coots. Those bigots _– Draco's thoughts were interrupted by the bar of soap slipping from his hands. It smashed into the ground with a loud, wet _SMACK!_ Picking up the soap Draco cleansed his mind of bitter thoughts. If he started on a rant, he would continue all day and he did not need that today. Today was the day to focus. It was after all… a Monday. Start of the week… with a much needed clean slate. Bubbling with optimism Draco grinned and quickly dressed in stylish grey dress robes. Walking out of the mansion Draco took a second to gaze admiringly at the stunning white peacocks roaming around and then disapparated.

Appearing in front of an old castle, Draco's grin wavered. This place had been the beginning of it all… and the end too. Taking a deep breath he pushed open the iron wrought gates with surprising ease. Gaining confidence from this, Draco made his way up to the front entrance with a spring in his step.

_Hogwarts here I come._

A/N: Liked it? Could use some work? Should I continue? (continue posting that is because I am still going to keep writing this for myself). Please take the time to give me some feedback, I'm working completely blind here. Complete novice haha… still trying to find my running legs. So yeah… tell me how you liked it.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Do not own Harry Potter and the characters. Only the plot is my own.

A/N: Due to technical difficulties (malfunctioning auto save .) this chapter was a little late to be finished. However, I am FINALLY done :D so yeah. The chapter parts are a little skewed, Draco getting a lot more say. But I'll try to avoid that in the future. Enjoy, and remember to tell me how you liked it.

**Chapter 2: Just my luck**

Entering the grounds brought mix feelings. On one hand Draco's stomach sank, thoughts of the last time he had left the Great Hall shrouded in death plaguing him, coupled with a twinge of guilt at having a hand in the unfolding of that grim night. On the other, more pleasant hand, his heart lifted at his reunion with his old school. Many of his misinformed peers were under the impression that Draco Malfoy hated Hogwarts. He hadn't helped things with open displays of spite during his Sixth, and last, year. That was, however, just an outlet for his frustration and helplessness concerning the task that Voldemort had set him. He did not hate Hogwarts. In fact, he _loved_ this damn place. As much unneeded hassle that fact had added to his teenage life, he did adore the old castle. Secrets, warts and all. _It was Dumbledore he had had a problem with_. Draco's eyes narrowed at this. It pained him to think of that. He had been such a foolish, impressionable boy. He hadn't realised the remarkableness of the wizard until after he had caused his death.

Nightmares still plagued him sometimes; of all the dark, vicious, downright moronic things he had done in his past. But having no place in his hectic life for angst, he had gotten past that; albeit with considerable effort on his friends part. He still remembered all the pep talks and the counselling sessions with a hint of resignation. He hadn't wanted to; showing weakness was not part of who he was and as much as he had changed, that was one trait that was here to stay. But in the end, it was what was best for him. Stopping in front of the monstrous form of the stone gargoyle in front of McGonagall's office.

A nearby painting of a morning tea scene in France started emitting a lot of noise. The painting was crowded with depictions that obviously belonged to the neighbouring portraits. They were all chattering excitedly and gawking at the blond man. Draco heard snatches of words that sounded suspiciously like 'Death Eater', 'Malfoy snob' and 'great catch'. The last one came from a rather compromisingly dressed female who was eyeing Draco in a way that made him look away instantaneously. At an unsubtle cough from the gargoyle, Draco looked up and picked invisible lint of his impeccable robes.

"Blackcurrant liquorice?" Draco tentatively told the gargoyle. He wasn't sure if it was a joke when his ex-Professor had told him the password in her letter. The stone statue swung open, revealing a revolving staircase. It looked perfectly restored after the wall had fallen in on it all those years ago. As he stepped on to the first step he heard a cough that sounded like a gruff 'good luck'. He glanced sharply at the impassive gargoyle. Or maybe it was just a cough.

Standing outside the Headmistress' office, Draco readied himself. Professor McGonagall had always intimidated him with her strictness and no-nonsense attitude. In comparison, manipulating Professor Snape had been a walk in the park. Draco took a final deep breath and pushed open the door.

He was greeted by a much greyer and much softer McGonagall. He stood and stared at the austere aged edge to her hair. At the wrinkles around the eyes. At the upward tilt of the corners of her lips. Draco had never seen her smile. Ever. But here she was, smiling right at him. At him for Merlin's sake. At ex-Death Eater Draco Malfoy. At world class git who was rude to her constantly. That Draco Malfoy. Then it dawned on him that this was a classic example of change and presumptions. He had assumed that McGonagall would be harsh and strict. Fair, because that was her character, but resentful nonetheless. He was after all a Slytherin and she a Gryffindor. However she had changed, and was wise enough to realise that he probably had as well.

"Please take a seat Mr. Malfoy, or can I call you Draco?" enquired the Headmistress in a soft voice, the authority still shining through.

"Draco would be just fine Professor." Draco muttered as he took a seat in front of the wide desk, flabbergasted. He hadn't accepted a warm welcome, it had thrown him off. _I need to regroup and replan… why the hell is she being decent to me? Ok, Draco, calm. It'll be fine. Take this as a good sign. Yes. About time to, good signs were… a good sign. _Smiling Draco looked up to meet McGonagall's eyes. "Shall we begin?"

"I take that you are here to interview for the job of Potions master?" at Draco's nod, Minerva McGonagall continued. "Severus mentored you through your years of schooling, and you achieved an Outstanding in both, your _O.W.L.S _and later your _N.E.W.T.S_ through the home-school program for the Seventh years. Also, being a Slytherin are used to the dungeon teacher quarters. I am in desperate need for a teacher, and due to school politics I require a candidate from Slytherin house. After Horaces's sudden retirement, we have no head of Slytherin. I am very pressured and have to make a hasty decision that I hope I will not regret. Draco, if you would accept, I would like to offer you the position of Potions Master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You start tomorrow and are given today off to gather your belongings and settle in to your new quarters. Do you accept?"

Dazed Draco again nodded. This had been the easiest interview he had ever given.

"Well then I have pressing matters to attend to so if you would…" Getting the message Draco got up, smiled at his old Transfiguration teacher and hurried out of the office. Lost in thought he stepped off the revolving staircase. That was until he saw a certain bushy head that he had never thought to see again. Granger whipped around so fast we wondered if she might have gotten whiplash. They stared at each other for a little while before Draco opened his mouth.

"Morning Granger" he said in an attempt to be civil and put an end to the awkwardness.

"Malfoy?" came back the not-so-civil reply in an incredulous tone.

As Hermione Granger pushed open the gates of her old school, a lone Thestral broke free of the messy jumble of trees that formed the Forbidden Forest and flew up into the overcast sky. _That's all I need. As if things aren't already jinxed enough._ Hermione mentally scoffed. Then immediately berated herself. _Jeez woman, it was one Thestral. It wasn't like a whole flock of Thestrals paraded around you and presented you with a life supply of misfortune. _Superstitiously, she looked around for any signs of skeletal animals holding gift baskets of bad luck. When nothing of the sort jumped out at her, Hermione half chuckled and took a tentative, slow step into the grounds.

It didn't feel as alien as she had expected it too. Brightening Hermione strolled up to the castle, taking the scenic route. Looking around nostalgically Hermione's gaze was drawn to the old tree next to the Black Lake. The inviting spot was where the trio whiled away many a lazy afternoon, in particular the ones after certain History of Magic exams.

Without breaking stride, Hermione began to reminiscence about her Hogwarts days. Images flooded her mind and sensations bombarded her. _Sitting in the vast library, surrounded by the unique scent of ancient, thumbed parchment. Dancing freely in the glorious Great Hall, chiming laughter tickling her ears. Lounging in Hagrid's homey hut, crunching through his rock hard scones. The magnificent prefect bathroom, the exquisite fragrance wafting from various concoctions pouring from the numerous taps as they formed a heady mixture. The dark dungeons, being tormented by the snickering Slytherins. Her dorm in the comfortable Gryffindor common room. The headmaster's office with its tinkling contraptions, Fawkes' melodic singing, the Sorting Hat with its uncanny ability to correctly analyse her very soul. The tall, proud Astronomy Tower. Dumbledore._

Hermione's thoughts came to an abrupt full stop as she spied the familiar gargoyle guarding a familiar office. Her legs had knowingly carried her here while her mind had been eons away in a time that was past. She looked up at the gargoyle, restored after the war and back to its former grumpy self.

"Ah Miss Granger, I am assuming you know the password?" the gargoyle welcomed, his voice sounding rather raspy.

Hermione remembered the password that Professor McGonagall had told her in her letter. "Blackcurrant liquorice." Hermione nonchalantly stated as the figurehead looked at her smugly.

"The Headmistress is busy at the-"

"I have an appointment." An indignant Hermione informed the statue. The gargoyle scowled at her, and then his gruff voice once again filled the wide empty hallway.

"If you had let me finish Granger, you would have heard me explain that the Headmistress is predisposed at this particular moment but will see you as soon as possible. After, being slightly more than a mere door knocker, I would have proceeded to politely talk to you until the Headmistress was ready to see you. Sadly, your insolent know-it-all attitude caused you to interrupt me before I could complete my sentence. So instead I will glare at you until I am forced to send you in when the Headmistress is free."

Stunned Hermione stared open-mouthed at the glowering gargoyle. She had never heard him utter that many words. Ever. Let alone in succession. She tried to continue the scowling contest, but a sudden giggle escaped the confines of her pursed lips. Grinning at the gargoyle's offended expression, Hermione turned away to inspect a nearby painting. Walking up to it, she noticed an elaborate tea party scene. An elaborately made up lady appraised Hermione as she daintily sipped her tea. A chubby man pulled at her oversized ruff, exclaiming;

"Now, now Margie, show some politeness. That's Hermione Granger that is!" turning to her, the man bowed and proclaimed "Greetings Madame Granger."

Hermione politely stifled a smirk at the man's attempts at a French accent. Looking around she got lost in the scene before her. Her attention was diverted when the 'French' man cackled. Looking at him questioningly she realised that he was looking right at her. Forgetting his accent, he excitedly summoned his partner.

"Quick Margie! Bring the popcorn… this is going to be an interesting encounter."

Hermione swivelled around and came face to face with a person she had not seen in 6 years. The person she least expected to see back in the halls of Hogwarts, least of all stepping out of the Headmistress' office with a jovial smile on his face.

Their eyes met. The grey orbs widened in surprise as the brown ones narrowed in suspicion.

"Morning Granger" greeted a silky smooth voice with perfect diction.

"Malfoy?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Bested by the Dragon**

Draco's semi-warm greeting was met with disbelieving unresponsiveness as Hermione Granger stared at him wide eyed, her lower jaw slack. Slipping back into the arrogant heartthrob was easy for Draco, being back in the hallways of Hogwarts helped as well. Ambling up to Granger in a devil-may-care gait Draco drawled in a bawdy tone;

"Not a very attractive look Granger." Rewarded by the insulted look he got in return, Draco deliberately brushed her shoulder as he walked past and made his way out. Without turning back he disappeared down the revolving staircases.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. The surreal encounter hadn't quite registered. Her quick mind immediately identified SOMETHING oddities that needed to be noted for future reference. First; he had greeted her… and looked… normal. _Well, for a normal person, Malfoy's _normal _is that irritating smirk. _Second, he had continued to be normal, at least until he had started remarking about her attractiveness. Hermione shuddered in disgust. Thirdly, despite slipping into the mean-bastard routine, he hadn't called her a Mudblood. Not once. And Lastly, he had changed. With that thought in mind Hermione stumbled past the still grumpy gargoyle and unsteadily made her way up to the Headmistress' office.

After a polite, sharp knock Hermione stepped into the office and gently shut the door behind her. Looking around she was dazed by how similar the room looked to when it was resided by Dumbledore. Everything was in its designated spot; the instruments were puffing away, the Sorting Hat was gently snoring, Fawkes' perch was empty, still standing in the corner. Looking up at the portraits Hermione noticed that all the ex-Head professors of the school were still terrible at acting. The all snored away overdramatically. _Must be part of a Headmaster's code or something_. Hermione smiled, until her gaze rested on the last two paintings. Snape and Dumbledore. Both were partaking in the sleeping charade. It was evident Snape was doing so rather reluctantly, in the way his snores were rather half-hearted. Dumbledore on the other hand was snoring with gusto, obviously enjoying this.

"Oh, Miss Granger! Hermione, Hermione! Please sit down, make yourself comfortable! What brings you to our institution this fine day?" McGonagall's voice caused Hermione to jump as her old Professor appeared out of a backroom. Bracing herself, Hermione prepared to do her piece.

"Actually Professor… Minerva, if you could do me a huge favour… I am here to interview for the Potions teacher job." Hermione stuttered out, not sure how McGonagall would receive this news. Hermione hadn't applied the conventional way because her pride prevented her from making her need for a job public. Which it would surely become, had McGonagall gotten three weeks' notice. She was putting a lot of faith in her friendship with Minerva to get through the initial surprise. Other than that, she was sure that she could out-qualify any other hopefuls and secure the job. She just had to convince McGonagall to let her give an interview. Silence ensued after Hermione's announcement as the Headmistress stared at her, glassy-eyed. Heart sinking Hermione started speaking again.

"You see Minerva, I didn't want to make it public… that I needed a job, you know. I know I should have applied but my damn Gryffindor pride… Just give me an interview, I'm not begging for the job. I brought my CV and everything. Just give me a chance." Hermione looked away abashed. That was the closest she had come to begging in a long time. She didn't like thinking about her past experiences with that particular activity. Most of them involved an ungrateful red head.

"Minerva, say something." Hermione pleaded, staring at McGonagall. Minerva finally found her voice. She fumbled with her quill before looking up at Hermione with a hard expression.

"You see Hermione, I just gave the job to Draco Malfoy." Hermione glared at McGonagall. _Malfoy! _

"So what am I supposed to do now, I came with such high hopes. I need a job Minerva." Hermione implored in an effort to dislodge Draco from her position. _He doesn't even like the school dammit!_

"Before you burn a hole through the wall Hermione, I would like to offer you the position to apprentice the Defence Against the Dark Arts' teacher. He is going to retire soon, and I was about to commence the rather tasking challenge of finding a DADA replacement. You see, even though the curse stopped affecting us, People are still reluctant to risk taking the position. But here you are, ready-made. Don't worry, you'll be teaching fully by next year." McGonagall hastily added the last sentence with a hopeful smile. Hermione was loath to take the job. As masterful as her spell casting was, she preferred the measured science of Potions. Resigned Hermione nodded. She was desperate.

"I'll take it." Hermione muttered looking solemnly at her old Transfiguration teacher.

"Hermione… I'm sorry, but Draco deserved that. This isn't going to be that bad you know? Professor Richardson is a wonderful man to work with. Look at this as a new beginning, one I am suspecting that you are in desperate need of." At Hermione's surprised look Minerva continued "Hit close to home have I? I guess I still know you like I thought I did. Now go Hermione, go home and pack. I expect you to start working tomorrow. I'll get a house elf to meet you at the gates in two hours."

With that Hermione found herself making her way to the front gates. It was in the middle of classes and the halls were crowded with students. Some looked at her curiously, while others continued their own way paying her no attention. It dawned in her that she would be teaching these students soon. Tomorrow in fact. Feeling troubled Hermione stalked across the front entrance hall, past the four house hourglasses and out the front gate.

A/N: This chapter was just from Hermione's point of view, to get both of them back on the same timeline. Next chapter is being written. I feel very loved with all the alerts I've gotten, but I would really appreciate a few reviews. Prettty pleeease? Haha :P Also, I might not have time to finish chapter 4 until this weekend because of college applications and what not. That'll teach me to procrastinate, but it's not I ever learn. Remember, take a few minutes to write a review, k?


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I am attempting to make my chapters longer, reading all the fanfics I hadn't realised just how many words actually make the scrolling thingie so small O.O, I thought I had been writing an ok length, but looking at the actual window, it seems really tiy. So that is goal number 1, this is one is a tad longer, so getting there. Thank you to everyone who thinks this isn't half-bad, and also to my first reviewer: **HeadbangGirl** :D

**Chapter 4: Woah, things have changed**

The wane sun sluggishly descended down the still unsettled sky. Two house elves waited patiently outside the tall wrought iron gates of a majestic castle. The only sound was the settling of the birds in the Forbidden Forest that lined the borders of the castle. With a loud sound a bushy haired woman appeared in front of the elves, balancing a trunk that had been charmed to fit all of her important possession; including her many books, several robes, stray pieces of parchment, quills and photographs. One of the elves immediately bounced up to the woman,

"Miss Granger! Let me carry that, my name is Apple." Exclaimed the elf as she seized the trunk and floated it in front of her. "Now we just need to wait for Master Draco. He should be here soon." Hermione noticed the second elf, he looked slightly put out. Hermione trued to make talk with the elf, who she assumed was shy.

"Hello, do you work in the kitchens? What's your name? My name is Hermione, I am going-" Hermione abruptly stopped talking as the elf shot her a venomous glare.

"My name would be Gustav, not that that is of any consequence to you, Mudblood." Hermione immediately blushed, she kept forgetting that even after the war, some people – or in this case, creatures – still hadn't shed the prejudices._ Kinda ironic really, in this school I used to fight for elf rights with S.P.E.W. and in the same place I am being reminded of my 'worth' in this society, and by an elf no less. _

"Gustav! Please forgive Gustav Miss Granger, Apple apologises for him. He does not know when to shut up." Apple enthused, shooting Gustav a glare which he completely ignored. They waited around in an awkward silence, periodically broken by Apple's attempts to negate the hostility rolling of in waves from Gustav. Hermione turned her back on both of them and stared up at the castle. It was getting dark rapidly, and the only activity was a few students playing Quidditch on the pitch. A flash of red indicated that they were Gryffindors. _Must be practicing for the next game,_ Hermione pondered. Looking on interestedly at all the loops and the twists the players performed on their brooms. She was about to ask Apple about the house rivalries when a sharp bang resounded behind her. A few black birds that had settled on the spikes of the gate, flew up into the dusk sky.

Hermione took her time turning around, delaying the moment when she would have to face Draco. When the expected greeting from Apple didn't come, Hermione couldn't supress her curiosity and she swivelled around to see what the matter was. The sight that met her was quite funny. There stood Draco, not a hair out of place. Beside him however, stood the most ridiculously dressed creature Hermione had ever laid eyes on. There stood an elf, dressed in a pink smock and orange woolly socks. The pink smock barely hid an oversized Hawaiian shirt coupled with polka dotted leggings. Hermione took all this in before the shock of the dressed elf hit her. _Malfoy's elf has clothes? This is a change from Dobby._ She looked on as she saw the smile from the elfs face die at the hostle reception she had gotten from the Hogwarts elves. Trying to make her feel better, Hermione stepped up and extended her hand.

"Hello, I'm Hermione Granger. Nice socks, what's your name?" As the elf smiled again and reached up to shake Hermione's hand, the shiny black trunk she had been levitating started to fall. Hurridely she resumed the charm she had been holding and looked sheepishly at Draco who was shaking his head.

"Her name is Pepper, and good evening to you to Granger. Shall we?"

As Hermione stared at him uncomprehendingly, he elaborated. "Shall we go inside, jeez for a smart one, you could use some brains Granger." And with that Draco Malfoy breezed past Hermione Granger for the second time that day. Hurriedly Hermione followed him. It was a strange sight that day in Hogwarts. A blond wizard in all black walked ahead, followed by a bushy haired witch chatting with a clown like elf, followed by a grumpy looking elf levitating a trunk and ending with a stiffly walking elf glaring straight ahead. The odd party finally made its way up to the gates, the sky had turned completely dark, the stars just starting to wink on.

"The Headmistress wants to see you in her office." A grumpy Apple informed Hermione and Draco and, taking Draco's trunk from Pepper, apparated away. Gustav had disappeared as soon as they had set foot in the Entrance Hall. _Things have certainly changed in Hogwarts, elves practically stabbed each other in order to serve the school. They don't seem very obliging now._

"Well THAT was rude…" muttered Pepper, just starting on her tirade. Hermione quickly stepped forward to walk in line with Draco. Anything to escape the rant Pepper was about to embark on. As the trio walked slowly up to the Headmistress' office, Hermione, putting aside her highschool rivalry with Draco – for the moment anyway – attempted to make small talk.

"So Malfoy. Doesn't your family have its own business? What brings the great heir to teach snivelly children how to brew potions?" Hermione struggled to keep the snide tone out of her questions. Draco replied with an expected sneer.

"You very well know we have a business Granger and whether I participate in it or not is my decision, the reasons for which I do not care to discuss with you. And what about you? The better third of the Golden Trio, the Brightest Witch that Ever lived? What are YOU doing _teaching_ of all things? I would have thought a career as a healer or a curse breaker, or even an Unspeakable would be more your calling."

Hermione stared at Draco, he had definitely hit a nerve there, Hermione would have been perfectly happy with any of the careers Draco had just listed off. Teaching had definitely not been on her list. Yet here she was. _Yet here they both were._

"People change Malfoy." And with that Hermione picked up her pace and surged forward. Surprised at receiving an actual answer Draco stared after her. _And here I was thinking I had figured you out Granger. _Hermione was tapping her foot impatiently as Pepper and Draco caught up with her in front of the McGonagall's office. They all stepped on the revolving staircase and started up. Pepper looked around, amazed. Even Malfoy Manor didn't have anything as fancy as this.

After McGonagall had ushered them all into her office, she stared pointedly at Pepper. Draco rushed to explain;

"This is Pepper, Professor. The Malfoy house elf. She wouldn't take no for an answer and -" he was cut off my Pepper as she took over the explaining; "Of course I didn't! Master Draco in his first job, without his Pepper! I wouldn't let that happen, I _couldn't_ let that happen! What food will the elves here give him? They do not know his favourite! And who will wake him up on time? Simply not possible. Pepper had to come." Pepper's surprisingly short rant ended with a grinning Hermione, a blushing Draco and a smiling McGonagall.

"Very well, Pepper you can move in with the house elves in the kitchen. But you will have to abide by the rules and help out with the meals. Is that acceptable for you Draco?" At Draco's nod, Minerva sent Pepper down to the kitchens.

"Alright, you both start tomorrow. In each of your rooms, I was written a letter explaining your individual duties… and some words of advice. You look tired; better get to bed both of you. You are in for a long day tomorrow with these children. Good night." With that the Headmistress of Hogwarts returned to her work, the duo took that as their cue to leave and silently exited the office. Once outside, they walked silently together to the giant staircase. At Draco's pensive look, Hermione, despite herself, asked him what was on his mind. Draco replied solemnly, without a sneer.

"I'm just worried about Pepper, I wasn't exactly nice to the elves in my time here, and now Pepper is with them. Those two at the gates didn't seem very happy at the sight of her. I hope they will be civil. Night Granger." With that Draco started down the stairs, making his way to the dungeons. Hermione started climbing the steps, making her way to the Third floor and her quarters.

oooooooooooo

Hermione closed the letter, is contained the usual. Polite concern, advice about dealing with the students, counsels about being civil to Draco. Hermione threw the letter on the writing desk and slid under her warm, inviting covers.

Lying in bed, staring up at the high ceiling Hermione's thoughts wandered, as her body prepared to shut down for the night. Her thoughts came in half sentences. _He seems different….Pepper is so…. I wonder what… I forgot to write to… Ginny will…. I hope that…. Professor Richardson is… sleepy…_

The last thought that entered into Hermione's sleepy mind met her just in time, since a moment later she was asleep.

_This is going to be an interesting year._

oooooooooooo

At the same time, five floors below Hermione, Draco Malfoy stood in his shower, thinking. He had glanced at the letter fleetingly; it was full of advice on dealing with the students and not being fazed if some of them were prejudiced because of his… past. Draco still felt a bit numb, in one day he had got a new job, left home, underestimated Granger, talked civilly with McGongall and settled into Hogwarts once again. There was only one thought in his mind as he reached to turn off the water:

_This is going to be an interesting year._

A/N: I have done things a bit too fast, them realising that things are different too early. But don't worry, this story is going to go on a while *ignores groans* :P and I promise I will post the next chapter (their first day teaching) in few days. For people who care (grand total 0, but I'll say it anyway) I have almost completed all my applications woo! *sighs in relief* almost there. Anyway I am going to shut up now. Please review…


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Do not own Harry Potter or any recognisable characters. Only the plot.

A/N: Ok power cut, and I am using my precious battery to write this :) so appreciate! :P Anyway, on with the story. This chappie is thankfully MUCH longer than the usual, yay!

**Chapter 5: Or maybe not**

Early morning dawned on the pristine scene of the Hogwarts ground. Diamond like dew rested on the thick ferns, lining the trees at the edge of the birds. Birds started waking up, getting ready for the day with merry chirps and little puffs of smoke could be seen emitting from Hagrid's lone hut next to the brooding, rustling forest. The glassy surface of the Black Lake was slowly lighting up as the sun rose higher into the azure sky. The house elves in the kitchen were making a start on the breakfast. The majority of the school was soundly sleeping in their beds, the exception being a young couple, furtively exiting the Room of Requirements before sharing a final kiss and going their separate ways. Professor McGonagall, however, was wide awake in her office, reading a letter from an old student. It went something like this;

_Addressed to  
__Professor Minerva McGonagall  
__Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
__Authorised by Auror Harry Potter_

_I have written to ask your advice on something; you could call it a personal crisis of sorts. Ronald Weasley needs Hermione's help. I have been slightly self-interested lately and have been ignoring my best friend. What with me spending all my free time with Ginny, and Ron focusing on his career and dealing with the press, we haven't had time to talk to her much, and now Hermione's disappeared. She isn't answering any owls, and I haven't seen her in a while. I thought you, being her old mentor, might have been contacted by her. It would be much appreciated if you could contact me about her whereabouts. I am going to out of the contry for the next few weeks, but you can reply to this letter and my secretary will contact me. _

_Thanking you,_

_Auror Harry Potter_

Minerva stared dumbfounded at the letter. The Harry Potter she had known was a loyal and loving friend. She glared disgustingly at the stamped sign next to Harry's name. This letter had obviously been written by the secretary. Although the concern in the letter could be seen flickering in the depths of the writing, hidden behind the official impersonal tone. But it wasn't good enough for Minerva. She burned the letter without any hesitation. What Hermione did was her business, and Minerva completely understood that. She had never believed in interfering in people's lives and she wasn't about to start now. Sure she would inform Hermione about of the letter, but she had already decided that she was not going to reply to it and give away Hermione's new living arrangements. If she hadn't told Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley about her new job, then it was not the Headmistress' place to do so. Minerva gave the waiting owl a treat and shooed her out of the office. The owl would be completing her journey unburdened because Minerva didn't deem the letter important enough to reply to. Remembering the impersonal tone and the stamped signature, Minerva's temper flared again and she stomped up to her quarters. Her thoughts grumpy and bitter, _I am getting too old for this sort of nonsense so early in the day. For short six years… some people have really changed._

A few hours later, as a clock somewhere chimed the arrival of the Seventh hour of the day; Hermione sat up in bed and reached up for the ceiling. Unsatisfied with the stretch, she massaged the side of her neck and got up, knowing that if she dawdled she would be asleep again in no time. Looking around blearily, it took her a second to realise that she was standing on the cold stone floors of Hogwarts castle, in her very own living quarters. _This is somewhere I never thought I would be in my Mickey Mouse pyjamas; _Hermione thought wryly as she gathered her toiletries and entered the bathroom. Turning on the wild berries scented bubble bath tap, Hermione decided to soak for a bit, _to prepare for the tough day ahead,_ Hermione excused the tiny luxury with a mischievous grin and settled into the warm water, rubbing shampoo through her hair. As the water turned cold, Hermione tried to remember back to her school days, lessons wise. Her schooling had been precarious DADA wise, the changing teachers … "Half of them out to get me" Hermione said out loud… and the patchy learning. But her quick brain had kept up-to-date with the theory, and wand work was not a hard thing to master, at least for Hermione Granger.

The core cause of worry for Hermione was the students. Leaving in her reclusive little house, in the outskirts of London, Hermione had gotten used to her own company. Harry dropped by now and again, with Ginny in tow. They spent their time locked in the guest room, high pitched giggles emitting from the room while Hermione prepared dinner, for which the couple would grace her with their presence and then disappear back into their temporary love nest. Ron would come by even less. He would visit to talk to him about _his _life, _his_ problems, _his_ love life and lately to ask 'advice' on an autobiography he was writing, 'Living like a champion', and by advice he meant write a detailed guide on all the chapters for him to follow. _Moron_. Hermione angrily splashed the water and got up, causing a mini tsunami of charmed soap bubbles to scatter across the bathroom floor. She wrapped a white, fluffy towel around herself and carefully walked across the wet floor, kicking a couple of bubbles along the way. The disappointment that hit her when they didn't pop was exaggerated. Defeated Hermione admitted to herself, _Fine! Maybe I'm not as independent as I had thought, that egotistic moronic ignoramus just makes it harder! ARGH. Harry certainly isn't helping either, great friends they are… all I have left is 'scrapbooks full of me in the background'. Screw them. _Her confession had turned into a fuming rant, one which she quickly stopped and hurried to pull on one of her dull black robes. Standing in front of the mirror, Hermione waved her wand in a complicated pattern and a whoosh of hot air dried her wet hair, making it frizzier. Unperturbed, she just tied it up in a bun and set out to find Professor Richardson before start of class.

The first place Hermione looked she hit jackpot. She walked into the Great Hall and there was a raven haired man sitting at the teacher's table. Being the only teacher she didn't recognise, Hermione decided that this was the man and she started to make her way up to him. As she walked up in the aisle formed between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables, she glanced around. Everyone seemed pretty open, walking from table to table. Discussing the days Daily Prophet, or the days daily gossip. _The way things have been going both were as good as each other_. Laughing at her jibe at the Prophet, Hermione resumed her observing. The Slytherin table was only half full, it seemed that not many people wanted to be a part of Slytherin house after the war._ Understandale, but sad_ Hermione coulnd't help feeling sorry for the sad looking table. The children were trying their best to talk to their peers, but the other tables mostly ignored them. Hermione should have been triumphant at seeing how the tables had turned, but she felt sorry for the ostracized house. The Gryffindor table as a contrast, was full to bursting, it seems everyone – House member or not – had squeezed in to get a taste of the glory that Gryffindorers had always enjoyed, but had been magnified after the war. Dodging a pair of young boys darting in front of her, Hermione reached the lengthy table in front of her. She took a moment to watch all her old teachers. Professor Sprout was chatting with Hagrid about the best plants to breed insects in for his Bowtruckles. Professor Sinistra was patiently listening to Professor Trelawney's observations of Jupiter's position last night. Professor Vector was gazing at the ceiling probably counting the number of candles to pass the time and Professor McGongall and Professor Flitwick were quietly discussing something that Hermione couldn't quiet catch. Having attended _all _classes in her third year, with a bit a help of a time turner, Hermione was acquainted with and very fond of all her Professors… except Trelawney, _but then again, no is fond of that old cook. _Lastly her eyes fell on Draco. He was sitting at one end of the table, the seat next to him empty. He looked straight ahead and ate his omelette in the most graceful manner she had ever seen. _Jeez the man even eats like a noble_; she went and took the seat next to Draco since Professor Richardson was sitting on the other side of it. Hermione half turned her body to examine her new mentor. He had baby blue eyes that smiled when he smiled at her. His thin lips parted long enough to give her a glimpse of his slightly crooked teeth.

"You must be Miss Granger, hey, I'm Jake. Well the esteemed Headmistress insists the students call me Professor Richardson, but everyone else calls me Jake." His light joking tone indicated that he indeed was as young as he looked. Hermione hid a smile. (A/N whaaat she is still a girl :P) Jake's easy going nature quickly put her at ease. She turned to her scrambled eggs with a changed frame of mind. Sneaking a glance at Draco told her that he was still moodily glaring out at the world. _Ok, this is more routine, back to the normal better-than-thou Draco Malfoy. _

"Eat up Malfoy, you've got three classes to teach after this." She quietly berated him, assuming that they had formed a tentative acquaintance after the shared experience of last evening and given their similar situations in a new job. Draco didn't even bother to look at her as he hissed;

"Who asked you Granger, I will eat as I see fit. As for the classes, the lesson will be over by the time I teach these imbeciles how to spell P-O-T-I-O-N-S."

with that, Draco stood up and went to have a word with McGonagall. The words where simple enough, it was the tone that chilled Hermione to the marrow. It was a too-realistic reminder of the way Draco used to talk to her in the schooldays. She was genuinely surprised that he hadn't called her Mudblood, the way he was talking. Hermione put it out of her mind. _Some things never changed_, she hadn't let that ferret get to her in seven years, and she was not about to start now. As Jake stood up to go to class, Hermione shovelled the last of her eggs in her mouth and scurried after him. Not wanting to miss a moment. Like everything, she was going to give this all her heart and excel in being a teacher, even though is wasn't exactly her life goal.

Draco Malfoy was rudely awoken by an over-excited house elf. As Pepper jumped on his bed, Draco was forced to wrench his exhausted eye lids apart and resign to the fact that he wasn't going back to sleep. He sullenly ignored Pepper until he had put on the discarded shirt he had shed last night. _Hogwarts has always been too warm, even in the dungeons._ Cursing the heating charms he assumed were activated in his room, he finally decided to heed Pepper. He stopped tuning her out and listened as she accounted her first night out of the Manor. As he had feared; the elves had been less than civil to her, but she had braved on and ignored them all. Her amazing French omelette in the morning had impressed most of them however. _Elves, go figure… if only our prejudices were solved with omelettes._ Draco grinned at the funny image he envisioned of Harry throwing a French omelette at Bellatrix. Shaking his head Draco focused again on Pepper. Apparently, Apple had still been a grouch, adding jealousy to her list after Pepper finished her amazing cooking.

"I made all of Master's favourite things! See! Pepper coming here with Master Draco was good!" Pepper brown eyes suddenly widened. "Oh no Master! Pepper forgot her beautiful smock! I left it near the fireplace to dry! That Apple Pie elf was eyeing it yesterday, I am sure she is going to steal it for herself, Pepper gots to go!" with that Pepper disappeared with a pop, gone to save her smock. _More likely Apple wanted to burn the hideous thing,_ Draco thought, grinning. He remembered when mother had given her the smock. Pepper's smock was actually a nice lacy white one, the hideous pink Frankensteiney smock was for one of mother's friends' toddlers, but Pepper had fallen in love with the pink creation and wanted it for herself, so the pristine white smock had been sent to be despoiled to the overactive toddler, to Draco's chagrin. Pepper, however, had been in an excellent mood for the next few days, making him Crème Brulee for dessert every day.

Draco picked himself off of the too-comfortable bed and reluctantly made his way to the bathroom. Turning on the shower, waiting for it to reach the scalding level he preferred, Draco shaved the slight stubble that had emerged since the last time he had shaved. Grinning at his clean-shaven reflection, Draco flicked his hair and turned to step into the steaming shower. The dangerous thing about Draco was that he was a handsome devil… and he knew it. In the shower, Draco's tense muscles slowly relaxed. The he was not a good sleeper. Even when the bad dreams were at bay, he never seemed to sleep well, waking up stiff and strung up. _The only nights I sleep well, are the ones I don't sleep at all. _Draco playfully thought back to all his past conquers. Women really were fickle creatures. His kind of women were anyway. A little flash of the Gringotts bank account and a little taste of his passionate kisses and they were at his command. He ignored the fact that his 'relationships' never lasted more than a few months. That thought stung him, especially when he was starting to look for a long term relationship, instead of weekly flings. Thinking about his last girlfriend, Daphne Greengrass. Slightly older than him, but so much more mature than her younger sister. While Astoria had thrown herself at him, dressed in skimpy clothes. Daphne's genuine beauty had caught his eyes. What made her more attractive was that she seemed unaffected by his bank account, possibly because hers consisted of slightly higher figures. When the money bait had failed, he had tried luring her with the kisses, at one particular party late at night. The fact that she returned his kiss with a tantalising one of her own, before turning her back and walking out on him, made her all the more attractive. That woman was a mystery, and he wanted to be the man that unravelled her. She was his equal in most ways, surpassing him in others. She was breathtakingly gorgeous, amazingly sexy, incredibly smart, aloofly mature, funny, adventurous and so much more. She was everything that he wasn't used to, and he wanted it. When she had finally agreed to a dinner date, Draco had pulled all the stops to impress her. And impressed she had been. He had been on impeccable behaviour, danced with her on all the slow numbers, and escorted her home. She had been so impressed in fact, that she had invited him for coffee that night. They hadn't ended up in bed, but they had had a conversation, long into the night about how their dreams in school were so different to what their dreams were now. She had then invited him for lunch the next day, a favour he returned by taking her to a Quidditch game the night after. As the dates piled up, Draco found himself in a middle of a relationship that he didn't want to leave. He realised that for the first time in his life, he had been with a woman for more than two weeks, and wasn't bored by her. There was so much more to find out, so much more to learn about her. Draco found himself dreaming about their life together. _Together_ together. He had even strolled past a few jewellery stores, looking for an appropriate engagement ring she might like. He was ready to have the 'next level' talk with her, when she invited him to her flat for coffee. Draco had sat there as she explained exactly why she was breaking up with him. As she went through so many reasons as to why they couldn't be together, why it just wouldn't work. For every bad word she uttered about their relationship, Draco's brain screamed out two good ones, but he just could not make his numb mouth form the words. He had listened as she had given him the real deal, once again. Except this time it made him want to curl up and die. That night in bed, he had remembered all the things she had said. His mind kept replaying the words, trying to find a flaw. He had no idea she had been unhappy, not when he had been so blissfully in heaven. _It couldn't have been the sex, the sex was bloody amazing. It couldn't have been the gifts, I know exactly what she likes. It couldn't have been the dates, she seemed so happy. _Draco gave himself a hundred reasons of why it couldn't have been… but her one reason stuck out. She had said he was directionless. He was like a puppet, governed by his family, his traditions, all the beliefs imposed on him. He always had been, and still was. That was the main reason he had quit the business and applied for Potions Master at Hogwarts. _Even after leaving my life, she's still making it better._ Over time, Draco had realised more imperfections. In himself. He had found a mature, down-to-earth, _real_ partner. But he had failed to become those things himself. He was still superficial, childish and immature. He had classed Daphne in the 'all girls' category. He had been a good boyfriend, in the sense of the materialistic things. He had just failed to be a good partner. But that was going to change, Draco was going to change. He was going to make himself capable for her. He loved her dammit!

While the soul-searching had been in progress, Draco had automatically dressed in grey robes. He found himself ready to go down to breakfast. Walking up to the Great Hall, Draco didn't pass anyone. Surprised, Draco continued. He had expected to pass several Slytherins by now. As he entered the Great Hall his steps slowed. He looked up at the Teacher's table. Most were familiar faces, except for a black haired man sitting next to Professor Sprout. Since he could place all the other teachers in subjects, he assumed that he was the DADA teacher, _assuming Binns hasn't finally departed_. Draco chuckled at his own bad joke, as he looked around. He was disheartened to see the Slytherin's numbers greatly reduced. Only a third of the table was full. They sat by themselves, chatting little and mostly minding their own business – even among themselves. He looked away from the sombre bunch towards the Gryffindor table. They were more popular than ever. The number of Gryffindorers beat, by far, all the other houses in capacity. Although Draco was annoyed at this, he could understand the thinking behind it. No one would want to be in Slytherin after all the bad publicity the house had gotten after the war. Draco was still ashamed in the part he had had to play in the particular event. He took the last seat on the table, an empty chair next to him. A plate appeared in front of him, an omelette on it, with the tomato sauce arranged in a smiley face. _Pepper._ Smiling he started eating. Some of his previous thoughts returning. His mood quickly turned darker, as he witnessed one Gryfindor walk into the hall with a group of friends. He took the long way to his table, passing the Slytherin table on the way. He 'accidentally' elbowed the back of a particularly scrawny emerald tied boy. The group of friends collapsed into laughter as the poor boys ears turned bright read. He put his head down and continues ladling porridge into his mouth. Draco clenched his fists as the arrogant boy strutted back to his table, followed by the group of admirers. It reminded him too much of Potter. _Calm Draco, that arrogant bastard is NOT the spawn of the boy-who-just-didn't-die_. Draco resumed eating, as Hermione walked in. Her frizzy hair tied in a neat bun, although a few strands escaped. Draco's scowl deepened. One thing he hated was scruffiness. He unfairly turned his all pent up frustration, about that Daphne, his own failures and then the added annoyance of the Gryffindorer's behaviour, onto an unfortunate untamed head of hair which happened to be Hermione's. He glared at the untidy strands of hair as if it was they were a sin against humanity, as Hermione glanced around. When she finally seated herself and then turned to completely ignore him and chat up the attractive teacher next to her Draco started reaching boiling point. _Typical, I thought we were meant to be civil now, yet here we are, in messy hairdos, chatting up the first attractive male specimen that meets our eyes. _Draco stabbed at the battered omelette. Hermione then turned around and nagged him about eating his food. _The nerve of her! Who the hell does she think she is, my mother?_ Draco's anger was formidable at the best of times. This… was one of the worse times. With unearthly restraint, Draco stopped himself setting fire to the Hall. A/N ok slight exaggeration, but you know what I mean.) He hissed out in a dangerously low tone.

"Who asked you Granger, I will eat as I see fit. As for the classes, the lesson will be over by the time I teach these imbeciles how to spell P-O-T-I-O-N-S."

With that he pushed his chair back, the scraping sound caused by the stone floor not helping the annoyance, and went to talk to Minerva as per her request. From the corner of his eyes he saw Hermione scuttle out of the Hall. He smiled. Other people's discomfort still made him feel better. He turned his attention to what McGonagall was saying.

A/N:

The 'scrapbooks full of me in the background' is a line from the song Rose's Turn, Glee did that song in Season 2 for other obsessees, the link will be on my profile, as soon as I put it up.  
I sat down and wrote out a detailed plot line for this, it isn't just a soppy love story and associated problems, there ARE other issues plaguing them both.  
Please review :)


	6. Chapter 6

A/N sorry for the delay guys, school started again. Final term woo! Ok, Draco and Hermione have FINALLY started teaching… Please forgive the ramblings in the middle; I am trying to encompass all the different types of students and the other teachers and stuff. I was kinda scared to write this chapter since it was so complicated… Hopefully I didn't get too muddled. Anyway, you may begin :P

**Chapter 6: Ten points from Gryffindor!**

Hermione followed Professor Richardson as he headed towards the Defence against the Dark Arts classroom, on the third floor. Hermione lengthened her strides to keep up with his brisk pace.

"Ah, Sorry Miss Granger, not used to company. I always run late for class in the mornings." Jake chuckled as his cobalt blue eyes twinkled. Hermione smiled tightly, Jake, noticing this, commented;

"No need to be nervous you know, if they try to bite you are allowed to defend yourself." In the absence of a laugh from Hermione, Jake Richardson continued, in his deep molten tone. "Miss Granger… Hermione, relax okay? You are only assisting, and this is only the first day, I will be there so don't worry… It gives you wrinkles," with that Jake dispelled the serious moment and unrelentingly half-sprinted to his classroom. When Hermione caught up, Jake was already halfway to the front of the room. Apprehensive, Hermione hung back. She hadn't had much experience with kids after her own school years; Teddy was a toddler and didn't count for this kind of situation. _Hell, I'm practically a kid myself._ Hermione was just starting to have second thoughts about this sudden career choice when the sound of her name jolted her out of her contemplations. She regained her focus as Professor Richardson wrapped up her introduction.

"… and that is why Miss Granger is joining us in the middle of the term, I am sure you will get along with her just fine." With that Jake looked at her, along with the rest of the class. Hermione stiffened as fifteen teenagers looked up at her with a myriad of expressions. Some looked at her with interest, some with awe, some with open hostility but most with curiosity. Hermione awkwardly cleared her throat and stepped forward.

"Umm ... As Professor Richardson ... Err... Jake, has already told you I am going to be assisting him this year. Umm … I hope to teach you everything I have –" Hermione cut off when someone snorted sarcastically. Hermione stood mortified, beet red to the roots of her frizzy hair.

"Alexander…" Jake growled threateningly, "Ten points from Gryffindor! Now shut up and pretend to have the manners that I know you don't!" Hermione was surprised that the boy was from Gryffindor, they were not meant to be rude. However, she was even more surprised to see the boy shut his mouth and look down, abashed. Hermione hadn't imagined that a boy of such insolence would have listened to anyone, let alone a teacher. The disrespect simply rolled off of him. Anger surged through Hermione, and she narrowed her eyes. _No one treats me like that, especially not a snivelling spoiled little brat!_ She forgot her awkwardness and started speaking with a new confidence.

"Anyway, as I was saying, before I was rudely interrupted by a snorting pig. I have experienced a lot of dark magic, and through that various defences against said Dark magic in my time. Fifth years right?" Hermione rhetorically asked, she had learned everything she legally could about her first class. There were fifteen students, eleven Gryffindors and four Slytherins. Eight boys and seven girls. "I was around your age, when I was plunged into the world of the Dark Arts, and if I could learn to survive, then so can you. Learning is a gift, soak up as much as you can from me. The only thing I ask of you is that you show me respect, and I will, in turn, respect you. And if you don't… well I'll know you have manners equivalent to a certain pig we have already been introduced to. Also, you can call me Hermione, no contraction. Thank you." With that Hermione made her way to Jake as authoritatively as she could. She came to a stop just behind him, ready for the lecture to begin.

"Great speech Miss. Hermione! I am a huge fan! Wow, the Brightest Witch of our Time, teaching me!" this remark had bubbled out of bespectacled girl who was practically jumping in her seat. She had straight black hair and her clothes were half a size too big for her. She grinned widely showing perfect teeth, her wand lay on a pile of books. Alexander shot her a pitying glance. Hermione immediately empathised with the girl.

"Teaching someone, so interested in learning will be my pleasure..." Hermione left of not knowing the girl's name.

"Sophia. Sophia Abbott." Hermione smiled at the Gryffindor girl, wondering if she was a relation to Hannah Abbott.

"Enough chit-chat, now that all of you are well acquainted with Hermione, I would like all of you to stand up and tell her about yourself." At the resounding groans, Jake smiled – he had expected them – and elaborated. "You're right, it's too first-day-of-middle-school. We can instead all write five-foot essays about the history of the Unforgivables, why they were banned, and also pick three rather gruesome spells and explain to me why they aren't counted as Unforgivables. That'll make for some rather interesting night reading, yes Hermione?" Hermione smiled at the obvious reverse psychology. With much ado and groaning the introductions sulkily started.

"Alexander Aubrey, Gryffindor, I play Quidditch." Hermione ignored the terse tone. She looked at the next student. The names went on and they lodged themselves in Hermione's brain. Her recall skills had been well honed, with all the Ancient Runes memorising, and they came back instantly. _Like riding a bike._ Hermione silently reviewed all the students as Jake proceeded to explain exactly what he had threatened to make the students write – the Unforgivables.

_Alexander Aubrey – arrogant, need to watch for him._

_Sophia Abbott – enthusiastic, a good kid. Gryffindor. _

_Marcus Flint – Slytherin, Quidditch player, a bit apprehensive about me_

_Apophis Fawcett – Nice name, quiet. Gryffindor._

_Victoria Greengrass – Slytherin, very shy… seems intellectual_

_Rowena Rutherford – 'call me Ro', Gryffindor… Obviously not on speaking terms with Aubrey _

_Montague Kiely – Slytherin, confident and cocky… something going on with Victoria? _

_Helena Horsefall – Slytherin, reserved… but protective of the other Slytherins ... hmm_

_Zachary Ogden – Separate from the other Gryffindors, plainly the boy has some sense and disapproves of Aubrey _

_Arabella Achibald – Gryffindor, friends with 'Ro'… fiery temper by the way she screamed at Aubrey_

_Fabian Prewett – Gryffindor, self-confident… his own person, do I see him eyeing Helena or is it just my imagination?_

_Camilla Bell – Gryffindor, bored by her peers … I think I can teach her a lot…_

_Gregory Jenkins – Gryffindor, friends with Zachary… back benchers_

_Viktor MacMillan – Gryffindor, sitting with Camilla… shares her views? Hmm… maybe_

_Penelope Dearborn – In the 'Aubrey' camp by the looks of it, great she has 'class'. _

Hermione's mind floated back to the classroom, Jake was just finishing explaining the Unforgivables. He had a resounding timbre to his voice, it soothed Hermione and she slipped back into student-mode, listening intently and storing the important bits to rewrite in revision notes later. _Always went through the most parchment during revision week. _Hermione duly thought, as much as she had enjoyed learning – and still did – she sometimes wished she had done more at school, had a more rounded life as a teenager. _I should have joined the choir or at least attempted to learn Quidditch…_The fact that in her teen years she had had a grand total of two boyfriends didn't help, especially when the other girls were either keeping steady boyfriends or moving from 'man to man'. Jake asked her to explain to the class her personal experiences with the curses. Digging into her past, Hermione recalled some of her most horrifying memories.

"Well, let's start with the Imperius Curse, as dangerous as it is… it is the least harmful – if applied correctly – and is also the easiest to resist. If you focus your mind and not succumb to the will of the enemies' wand, then you will be successful in overthrowing the wielder. YOUR mind is YOUR territory, no one controls you. I am sure over the five years; you have learned about the art of Occlumency, it is the same principle when it comes to the Imperius. Constant vigilance!" Hermione was slightly surprised at herself, recalling the words of Moody – however fake he was – numbed her. She had expected Mad-Eye to be there till the end, standing by Harry until it was all over… Moody's fall, so early in the fight had shaken her resolve. Hermione had been weakened by the blow and it had taken her painstaking weeks to recover enough to even function normally. The wound wasn't completely healed; even now thinking about him was like salty sea air whipping around the open scab, making it sting and burn. Pausing after a moment, Hermione continued – she was after all a professional.

"Then there is the Cruciatus Curse. It requires much malice in one's heart to successfully cast this curse and cause maximum damage… The cruc.. being crucioed is like… it's like having someone peel your skin away from your tissue… with a blunt knife." Hermione chuckled dryly. "It hurts like hell and beyond. I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy." Most of the class grew sombre, sharing Hermione's moment of pain. Alexander and Penelope rolled their eyes, muttering words along the lines of 'overdramatic' and 'exaggeration'.

"The final curse… Avada Kedavra." Hermione whispered the words in the most solemn voice she could muster. Even Alex Aubrey fell silent. She finally had absolute attention. The whole room buzzed with anticipation, the tension could be cut with a knife. Hoping that this was actual interest… and not someone's silencio charm, Hermione observed the affect her words had caused. _You could hear a bloody pin drop_ Hermione thought to herself. Jake was staring at her slightly awe-struck, along with half the class. Montague had stopped passing notes to Victoria, Penelope had stopped making eyes at Aubrey and Camilla had stopped looking out the window into the green grounds of the castle. Hermione stared into the eyes of all her pupils, and in them she saw recognition. Realisation that SHE was their TEACHER. Their MENTOR. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. If all it had taken to gain the begrudging acceptance of these teens was a story from her past, she had been worrying about nothing. Hermione smiled at the torture she had put herself through on behalf of this.

"Avada Kedavra, the killing curse. It is almost impossible to throw up a shield strong enough to block this curse. Only rare forms of old magic can be relied on. The only person known to have survived an attack is Harry Potter. The magic protecting him was present because his mother selflessly sacrificed herself for him, this love was what overcame the evil that was Voldemort and won us the war." It was reassuring to see that no one flinched at the mention of You-Know-Who, _Great, people have finally learned some sense. _

Hermione had quickly skimmed over the Harry bit – not wanting to dwell on them. As it was, the students' eyes had become as wide as saucers, staring at her star struck. _If you only you actually know him. _She had always known Harry to be the loyal friend, even if he was slightly angsty – but then what teenager wasn't, he had also taken Ron's side in their argument, but Hermione had chalked that up to the 'male bond' they shared. But his complete abandonment of her – especially when she was so in need – had completely put her off. Yes, they were still 'friends'. Yes, she couldn't forget all that they had been through. Yes, she would still do most things he asked of her. But no, she still didn't trust him with her everything.

He had lost the right to that trust when she had asked him for a place to stay and he had turned her out with apologise – all because his _girlfriend_ didn't like sharing the 'small enough' space. That was what had forced her to come for a job here. As much as she doted on Hogwarts, no thoughts regarding a career here had even strayed near her young, misdirected mind. Hermione had wanted nothing more than to be a Unspeakable, and she was on her way as well. She was doing her apprenticeship as a curse breaker at the Ministry. After a further two years, she would have become one herself and following that it was just a matter of time… she had planned it all meticulously, getting accepted by the Ministry, the trust growing. Her exceling at her career, the Minister impresses… Then she would apply for a position as an Unspeakable and the extra training would begin… after a few short years she would become an accepted, functioning part of the Department of Mysteries. From there she had dreams of travelling to exotic places, discovering new artefacts, learning complex spells and finally satiating the gnawing curiosity within her about the workings of the Department of Mysteries. Ever since their fifth year jaunt there, Hermione had been completely enamoured by the place. _But as they say, things never go as planned… 'They' are really wise. _Hermione ruefully joked, backtracking to Harry and her life since school. Things had gone horribly, horribly off-track. Hermione had made it into the apprenticeship program, but then she had gotten sacked. It had left her shocked; she had not seen it coming.

Reason? The publicity her boyfriend, Quidditch player Ronald Weasley, attracted was detrimental to the sensitive on goings of the Department. The Ministry was sorry to sever her apprenticeship and hoped that she would find another suitable vocation. That was what it had said, the dreadful letter that had arrived at her window one sunny weekend. She had called Ron over, for comfort but the self centred git had taken it as an attack and blamed her for not being good enough. His words had been that 'an unappreciative hag like her could never understand his life, that she had no right whatsoever to tell him to stop doing interviews and what nots and she was just jealous that he, for once, was more in demand than her.' With that he had slammed the door of her lakeside cottage so hard that a few flakes of plaster from the ceiling had drifted down to the stone floor.

Hermione. Had. Been. Fuming. Even now Ronald's words caused rage to rush through her veins. Due to the loss of the job, and she had been unable to pay her mortgage. Since she had idiotically taken a loan from a muggle bank, her status as a war hero counted for zilch and duping the bank authorities using magic was against her morals. So, a frustrated and defeated Hermione Granger had turned up at loyal old friend Harry Potter's doorstep, in desperate need of help. Harry had turned her away before she was even hallway through her first cup of tea. Ginny had glared at him for being so tactless, silently berating him for breaking the news so insensitively but then again Harry had never been the most socially comfortable people she knew. Heartbroken, Hermione had rented a flat in downtown London and gone to see Minerva McGonagall, slightly late of notice, to secure the Potions Master position. Unfortunately, Draco Malfoy had gotten there first and here they were. There was a sound of scraping, wood against stone. The students were quickly disappearing through the door, onto their next class. Hermione had reminiscenced throughout her first lesson. Colouring, she looked at Jake, but her mentor didn't seem to mind that he had to teach the class, that was – after all – his job. Hermione assumed that he was taking it easy on her. Grateful Hermione vowed to focus in her next classes and put her past where it belonged. Behind her. All bright eyed and bushy haired, Hermione prepared herself for the next class, one in which she swore she would pay attention.

oooooooooooooooo

At first the Headmistress' words didn't sink in. Draco stared at her dumbfounded and couldn't help but look at her disbelievingly.

"Are you friggin' serious?" Draco blurted, losing his cool and swearing in front of his boss. Minerva however didn't seem to mind, she very calmly took a bite of her boiled egg and repeated herself.

"Yes Professor Draco, I am indeed very serious when I extend the offer of the post of Head of Slytherin House to you. If you are comfortable with it, I would like to announce the new Head at tonight's dinner."

Draco finally registered that this wasn't a joke. His first reaction was fear, he didn't want to head a house, especially not one of evil children… but he stopped himself. As he had clearly witnessed minutes ago, the Gryffindors were the bully NOT the Slytherins. He would have to give the children the benefit of the very well founded doubt. His second reaction was confusion. Why him? Draco Malfoy? Would anyone at the school actually talk to him? Let alone respect him as a Head of a House. What was McGonagall thinking? The third and last reaction was exhaustion. He had come to Hogwarts for a simple teaching job,, this was too much responsibility. It seems that Minerva had noticed Draco's reluctance to accept her offer. She quickly inserted

"Of course, you have all day to think about this and decide…" before Draco could even open his mouth to say no. Resigned Draco nodded and returned to his breakfast, which was now cold and unappealing. He got up and made his way out of the half empty Hall and to the dank dungeons. His classroom was thankfully, not under the Lake. As a student, Draco had always feared that the Giant Squid would somehow break through the charmed stone ceiling and drown them all. He had forgotten the strength of the castle, made indestructible by the charms placed on it by Dumbledore. Still, like most irrational fears, this was one that hadn't left him. Draco turned the corner and saw a line of fidgeting first years waiting for him. They turned and stared at him, wide eyed. _Are the awed by me or are their heads just too big? _Deciding on the latter, Draco barked at them all to enter and followed them in. Unconsciously he was slipping into the role of 'Potions Master', how he described it anyway, all his school life he had the same Potions teacher, Snape. Draco found himself mimicking the scowl and the sarcasm that was ever present around his old mentor. Draco intimidatingly glared out at the first years.

"I do not know what Professor Slughorn has taught you lot, but I intend on starting from scratch, my own way. We will now go through two brews a lesson until we catch up on where we are meant to be. I will not tolerate back talking, you will get detention. Show me anything less than utmost respect, you get detention. Talk during class, you meet me in detention. Make _idiotic_ mistakes for example failing to read simple English – you get detention. You will refer to me as Professor Malfoy, any variations and you get detention. Am I clear?"

The completely terrified First Years nodded their consent. They were young enough to be scared of him and not old enough to have enough of a personality to rebel. That was how Draco preferred it. Sneering at the nearest kid, Draco turned around and wrote on the board. The chalk made an unbearable screeching noise on the board and Draco sensed some of the students cringing. His smile deepened.

"So class, today you will be brewing for me the Swelling Solution and the antidote for it – the Deflating Draught. At the end of the lesson, all of you will taste your first potions and then try your antidotes. Hopefully Poppy doesn't get too many visitors after this lesson." Draco smiled ruthlessly at the troubled looking students. They were a mix of Ravenclaws and Gryffindors. _Good, they should be smart enough._

"You may begin."

Draco watched the students scramble around, gathering ingredients, crushing seeds, preparing cauldrons. Draco's thoughts drifted to other things. Draco imagined what Pansy and Blaise would be doing right now. Pansy worked at the Daily Prophet, the fashion writer. Blaise was a healer in training at St. Mungo's. Both were happy, but not together. This fact grated on Draco's nerves. The attraction for each other rolled off of them when they were together, miraculously they managed to miss them both and buffeted Draco with their full force.

He had tried on several occasions to make Pansy and Blaise see their perfectness, but he had failed. Blaise had broken up with Luna Lovegood and was 'not ready to move on'; Draco didn't even attempt to understand this. For Draco, it was either being with a woman, or – if she wasn't willing – make her want to be with him. It was what he was doing for Daphne, after she saw what Draco had become she would come rushing back. Pansy was in the opposite mind frame, she moved through men like she moved through shoes. Whenever she went shoe shopping, it was probably due to boredom with her current relationship. She always returned with a new pair of Jimmy Choos and a new accessory aka boyfriend. Draco was just thankful that she had gotten over him. It had taken a while for Draco and Pansy to get over the awkwardness caused by their several sexual encounters during school, but they had gotten past that. They were now quite close friends, apart from Blaise, Pansy was the one person Draco shared his frustrations with. As alluring he had found her body as a teenager, he often found himself knocking on her door after midnight – not seeking primal pleasures, instead needing a long chat to vent. It helped.

Draco had so many problems in his life. His father, after the war had completely lost it. After being let out of Azkaban for good behaviour, he had went into overdrive. Working day and night, he had almost doubled the already considerable Malfoy fortune. Then he had suddenly burned out and retired early to use the nouve money to travel around the world. Leaving Draco to run the company. The company did an assortment of things, from buying heirlooms from old families to manufacturing expensive jewellery. Mother had gotten so clingy after the near death incident in the Room of Requirements. It was the reason he lived at home, despite owning a quite comfortable flat in downtown London, at the age of twenty three. She happily stuck all of father's postcards in a scrapbook. Typically the postcards usually had a scribbled message along the lines of 'having fun, don't know when I'll get back'. No pictures. Nothing. It didn't bother Draco, it had always been just him and Mother, but it did bother Narcissa.

Draco watched as his Mother deteriorated from an austere middle aged woman to a wild haired mess waiting for her husband. He couldn't take it, and when he had failed to do anything about it, he had taken this job. This job had come as a lifeline, rescuing him from so many things. His broken relationship. His deteriorating mother. His careless unloving father. The stupid company, like shackles around him. His declining social life where Blaise whinged about Luna and Pansy turned up with a new guy every night. It. Was. Too. Much. Draco had felt like screaming, internally he had been. He had escaped just in time, surprisingly without ulcers. For the first time in a long, long time, the screaming inside his aching head had stopped. Among the rowdy hallways of Hogwarts surrounded by snivelling children… Draco had found peace. Pleased by this revelation, Draco refocused on his class and went for a stroll among the desks.

Glancing at the potions Draco turned his nose, a gesture Snape would have been proud of. Most brews were passable, few though, were exceptional. On the bright side, the only disaster was the quickly corroding cauldron of one poor boy as he helplessly tried to freeze the potion he had created, Draco looked on – waiting to swoop in and prevent any deaths – but the boy finally managed to freeze the oozing liquid and the disaster was averted. The only consequences being the lad getting a 'Troll' grade for the lesson and needing to buy a new cauldron. Draco stopped next to last student, it was a curly haired witch whose hair was getting unrulier by the minute as she furiously stirred her concoction three stirs anticlockwise and two stirs clockwise. Miraculously, her potion surpassed the mauve colour of most other brews in the room and turned into a delicate lavender. Pleased Draco walked back to the front of the class.

"Unfortunately, we do not have enough time to test these potions. Thankfully for Poppy, because by the looks of it half of you would have been heading there this afternoon. Please place a vial of your potions on my table, for marking."

As an exhausted class trudged out of the room, Draco stood smiling.

This was his domain now.

Until the next class walked in. It was a bunch of fifteen students, an uneven blend of Gryffindors and Slytherins. Draco watched them trickle in and seat themselves, mostly at the back. As the last girl rushed in, her arms loaded with books and flopped into a front seat, Draco stepped forward. Hoping that it would make an impression on the teens. It didn't. The chatter continued. The pale green light of the room washed on a peculiar scene. One angry looking blonde man glared out at the space in front of him, standing in front of the room. Directly in front of him, staring up at him with bespectacled glasses was a young girl. Behind her were three benches and the majority of the class was crammed in the small space behind those seats, at the back of the dungeon, as far away from the man as possible. The exception was a girl and a boy, who sat on one side of the classroom, away from both the rowdy backbenchers and the four eyed nerd and a group of four emerald tied students who sat in the abyss that was the benches behind the girl in the front row. Draco magicked the chalks to make an awful screeching noise against the board.

Silence finally reigned as the teens in front of him cringed in horror. One particular Gryffindor glared at him, Draco remembered hima s the boy who had 'bumped' into the Slytherin at breakfast. Draco's good mood flew out of the window, or it would have if there would have been one. Instead it just disintegrated on the spot, leaving behind annoyance. _Their loss_ Draco ominously though as he prepared to give these ruffians the worst lesson of their lives.

"I am Professor Malfoy, I will now teach you Potions. For those of you who can read, I will write instructions on the board at the start of every lesson. You will immediately complete the required tasks and leave behind a sample of your attempts on my desk before you make an orderly exit from my classroom. For those of you who can't read, keep your dimness to yourself. Stupid people annoy me. Your only rule, behave. What incorporates as misbehaviour will be determined by me and will result in detention. Arguing will result in double detention. Am I clear?"

The girl at the front lifted her hand, Draco scowled at her, but when the girl didn't back down he finally conceded.

"What?" Draco spat out in the most intimidating tone possible

"Professor Slughorn had set us homework, five feet on the properties of bezoars. Do you want us to hand it in?" The girl stated, ignoring the glares of her classmates. Draco smiled.

"Your name?"

"Sophia Abbot, sir." Draco liked this girl, she had manners.

"Yes, you may all hand in your parchments with your vials of potions." With that Draco flicked his wand and scribbled instructions on brewing a Befuddlement Draught appeared on the board.

"You may begin." Draco sat down, as Sophia immediately put her cauldron on the flame and started reading the instructions furiously. The close knit bunch of Slytherins allocated the task of collecting the ingredients to one skinny girl and she carried back four lots of all the needed materials. _Hmm teamwork, maybe Slytherin House isn't as bad as I remembered._ The two loners at the side of the classroom, slowly began their potions and most of the backbenchers moved forward to the three benches to setup their cauldrons. Satisfied Draco smirked. The furious looking blonde boy was left in the back row, along with an annoying looking girl who prepared his ingredients for him.

Draco observed all of this, looking at his roll. He checked that fifteen students were present and watched the chaos unfold in front of him. He couldn't be learning the names of the insufferable kids just at his moment. At the end of the long lesson, only Sophia had managed to coax her potion to turn clear. Everyone else had varying degrees of success, the most miserable solution being a muddy brown colour that stank like sulphur. It was the clingy girls' the blonde boy's potion on the other hand had managed to come quite close to the clear it needed to be. Draco collected the essays and vials and shooed them out of the classroom.

Returning to his rooms for lunch Draco sat on his bed and contemplated. It wouldn't be so bad being the Head of the House. He had half plans of what he could do if he became the Head. He had a vision. But then returned to reality. _I can't do this!_ The students would never accept him, and neither would the teachers. Surely McGonagall can find someone else. All the events I would have to oversee, the Quidditch matches, the insufferable complaints from people. The authority, the responsibility, the stress. This was his first year, he couldn't manage it. Maybe next year. With thoughts of refusing the offer, Draco made his way to the Headmistress's office. The statue of the gargoyle was waiting for him, it swung open without comment and a determined Draco entered.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

That night, during dinner, the Headmistress stood up.

"Students and staff of Hogwarts, let us welcome the two new additions to our staff here – Professors Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger"

The scattered applause died down quickly, Minerva continued.

"Before I let you proceed with dinner, I have an announcement to make."

A/N: So there it guys, sorry sorry sorry! I got it finished later than I had expected :(, but it's really long :) hopefully long enough. Please review and sorry if I didn't make sense in some bits, recommendations are welcome so is criticism.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: OK guys, I'm trying something new, instead of just Hermione and Draco's POV I'm going to try and write from the students POV as well. I know it sounds complicated and crowded but I really think it will help the story and half of them are sidekicks anyway so it's only 5-6 extra actual characters… I am soooo apprehensive about this, so instead of hating me, tell me to stop doing it if you don't like it. Promise? I can take the truth :P OK enough drama, you are allowed to read on :)**

**Chapter 7: Everyone thinks too much on Tuesdays**

At Minerva's words, the chatter died down and teachers and students alike turned to face her. She gazed serenely out at her school, sensing the anticipation build. When Draco Malfoy had burst into her room only hours earlier, he had rejected her offer. She had given him many reasons to take the position, in desperation, ending her plea with begging him to spare a thought for her. She was really in need. When Draco had still refuted her; she had screamed and threatened, actions that Draco himself was not unfamiliar with. They had argued and debated, contemplated and verbally sparred. In the end, Minerva understood Draco's position more than she had ever thought she would and Draco realised the nature of school politics and the weight of being the Headmistress in a new light.

"I have decided on a new Head of Slytherin House."

From the rightmost table, a sea of emerald moved as one as every single soul seated there looked at each other apprehensively. Slughorn hadn't been the best of Heads, often taking sides of the other Heads and students. His 'Slug Club' had consisted of many students, only a minute fraction of which were Slytherin. The serpent House had been enjoying some freedom in the absence of a Head and dreaded having a new, more polished anvil, swaying over the heads, ready to drop as soon as anyone complained about them. And knowing the spiteful students that resided in the school, sooner or later that anvil would drop. It was like the whole school was against the House, for what had happened in the past. This was a completely new set of people, no students present in the war remained, yet it seemed the rest of the world ignored that fact. Torturing and humiliating the members of Slytherin House as if they had committed a personal crime against humanity.

"Professor Draco Malfoy, he will take up the position of the new Head of Slytherin House as of now."

Minerva looked over at Draco, willing him to stand up. She let out a sigh of relief as Draco got to his feet, as graceful as ever.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

_I am only doing this for that stubborn old hag._ The fight between Draco and Minerva had seemed to have yielded a tentative friendship. Draco himself was surprised at the extent to which he had revealed her life, to an ex-Gryffindor. His mind's eye had watched astounded as, instead of taking his words and stabbing him with them, Minerva had proceeded to bare her own soul. Draco had walked out of the office, feeling like he had found a new mentor; his respect for Minerva McGonagall had grown. And beyond all, he trusted her. Forcing himself to stand up, Draco glared out at the school, most of which was clapping uninterestedly. As soon as was considered polite, Draco shrunk back into his high backed chair and waited for the staring to stop. From the corners of his eyes, he could see Hermione Granger looking at him as if she had been stupefied. Draco grinned. _Who would have thought? Beating her at so many things in so little a time span. _Draco felt like giggling, but thought it was very unbecoming for his reputation.

As soon as the whispers died down and returned to full volumed gossip, Draco unplastered himself from the back of his chair and sat up straighter. Pepper had once again made one of his favourites, Shepard's Pie, taking a big slice Draco lost himself in the warm textures of the pie. Since he polished of his slice in minutes he watched 'his' house, uninclined to take another slice – Draco didn't have a very big appetite. The Slytherin were all packed towards the end of the table that was closest to the massive doors of the Hall. Even so, they didn't even fill half of the table. Draco was disappointed, as bad a reputation Slytherin House had had, it was still his house. Yes, there were things that bothered Draco, many things. But the fact of the matter was that he was proud of his house. So noble, so elegant. Enduring all the hatred calmly and returning some of their own. The Slytherins had never broken, well not in the ways he described it. They never found themselves lost in a book like Ravenclaws – open to attack. They never made themselves vulnerable through displays of emotions – like the idiotic Hufflepuffs. And least of all, Slytherins never _ever_ rushed into something without thinking it through completely – like the thick skulled Gryffindors. Some may call it cowardice – planning escape routes before the fight even begins, but Draco knew, it was self-preservation. That was the reason why, he, unlike half the people that had started fighting, ended up alive. Yes, he felt horrible thinking like that, but like a true Slytherin, he kept a sneer fixed on his face as he insulted the family of the dead ones all the while kicking himself for being so ruthless. But when it came down to it, Draco followed the mentality that had kept him and his mother alive all through the reign of Voldemort – _Rather them than me._

His father had drilled that lesson into him when he was a seven year old. It was what he repeated to himself as he watched Voldemort torture countless souls in the plush living room of Malfoy Manor. While his heart was screaming at him to jump up and stop this madness, it was his ruthless mind that calmly hissed at him, _rather them than you_, his evil mind had been what kept him alive. As ashamed of it as he was, Draco would do the same thing twice. Hell would freeze over before he endangered his Mother over something his heart told him to do. The thought was so ridiculous that Draco felt like physically scoffing. All in all, as much as he resented his House for making him the person he was, he still loved it enough to hex anyone who dared insult it. At the end of his mental ramblings, Draco was determined to be fair to the slighted Slytherins, to show them that they were not bad people, despite what the prejudiced, narrow minded imbeciles around them claimed. He was going to fight tooth and nail to present the Slytherins with the equality they deserved. Gaining the respect from there would be their responsibility, though. But Draco Malfoy was sure it was one they could handle. As soon as the students started dwindling out of the Great Hall, Draco excused himself from the conversation he was meant to be having with Sybill Trelawney. The woman had been telling him where she had bought all her several shawls and how they were good at insulating, which meant her divine powers couldn't fly away from her. _The woman really is completely bonkers._ Draco walked over to the Headmistress and bent down to whisper to her.

"You owe me big time, grandma." McGonagall smiled and mock glared at him, he quickly smiled back and whipped around to make his way down the side stairs. He past Granger, who was sitting right next to Minerva, she gave him a peculiar look and returned to her conversation with Professor Vector, her old Arithmancy teacher. Draco ignored the gesture and hurried out of the hall, dreaming about his warm inviting room. Reaching the dungeons he quickly whispered 'Alohomora' and entered his chambers. For once he was glad of the over stuffiness of the room, being under the Lake did not help the in the cold bitter winters of England.

Draco sat on his table and inked a letter to Pansy. She had threatened to visit him if he didn't write to her weekly. He poured his heart out, telling her everything form the sudden appearance of Granger to the tentative friendship with Minerva. From the taxing lessons to the news of him becoming Head. He could just imagine Pansy squealing and hugging him as he wrote. He was thankful he was miles away from her, that girl could get shrill. Smiling, Draco signed off. Next he wrote letters to mother and Blaise, writing essentially the same things with varying degrees of information. Once he had dispatched Pepper to send the letters, Draco found himself planning tomorrow's lessons. Tomorrow was a Wednesday, he had the Fifth Year class he had had today in the morning, followed by a new Third year class and ending with a free period. He couldn't wait to revel in the free period. Draco felt like he was back in school and then ruefully looked around him when he realised that he indeed was.

He settled into bed, blowing out the candle beside his bed with a puff of breath.

ooooooooooooooooooo

Hermione stared dumbfounded at the events unfolding in front of her. She was so distracted that she couldn't focus on Professor Vector's words. He was telling her about the new found magical properties of the number 6 and how it could be used to calculate many never-before-attempted phenomenon. As much as this interested Hermione, she couldn't help being slightly resentful at how things were turning out for Draco Malfoy. True, being a Gryffindor, she didn't have much time for Slytherins. But seeing the individual, mistreated students, Hermione's heart went out to them. She wanted to do something to help them, to relive the pain they must have been experiencing due to the social rejection and the public scorn they underwent. Hermione hadn't seen much evidence of this, but her empathetic mind had gleaned as much through all the subtle attempts at putting the Slytherins down, in her classes. Even the little First years had had no sympathy.

And now Draco Malfoy had the job of pruning their young minds and guiding them. Hermione scoffed, which surprised Professor Vector, but he assumed she was showing disdain at the his comments of how deep he thought the magical oceans were, he proceeded to explain how he could prove it using the number six. Hermione's mental train of thought gained speed uninterrupted. Not only was the infuriating man sitting on the job she had wanted, he had been promoted on his first day here and he was also getting the chance to spoil the young minds of the impressionable teenagers. _Knowing him, he'll turn them all into Death Eaters. _Hermione immediately regretted the thought. True, Malfoy had been rude to her, but he had not as yet descended to the use of 'Mudblood', she would not start the feud first by calling him Death Eater on unproven grounds.

What did it for Hermione was when Draco stalked over and whispered into Minerva's ear. Hermione thought she heard what sounded like 'grandma'. Furthermore, Minerva turned to smile at him like they were old friends, a smile he returned with a cheeky one of his own. A cheeky one! No force of nature could close Hermione lower jaw, which had become unhinged as she saw the encounter take place in front of her. As Draco walked out of the Hall, she glared at Minerva, demanding answers. Guiltily Minerva avoided her. When the Headmistress couldn't take the daggers Hermione was mentally hurling at her she quickly whispered to Hermione,

"Come to my office tomorrow evening, I'll try to explain."

The thought that there was a plausible explanation for this didn't help Hermione's mental state. She had hoped that there was a crazy, possible criminal, reason for this. Perhaps Draco had imperiused Minerva, or slipped something in her afternoon coffee. But all hopes were dashed with the Minerva's statement. Dejected Hermione listened as Professor Vector rambled on about the number six. For once she had no interest, the professor, on whom she had always had a slight crush on, was boring her for the first time. As soon as some of the teachers started dispersing, Hermione excused herself and rushed out of the hall. She practically ran all the way up the third floor and didn't slow down until she was safely in her room. It was so time for a bath.

She ran the bath and slowly watched it fill. Today had been a hellish day. First was the mental battle of wills with the stubborn Fifth Years, after that she had had to endure the unhidden stares of the First Years. Worst of all were the Seventh Years she had last. Since most of them had been First Years during the war, they all acted like they were her best friends, completely undermining her role as a teacher. Hermione had to scream at them, which had completely stunned them and the rest of the lesson had passed in sulky silence from both parties as Jake watched on with an amused expression, having given up on getting any teaching done. In a way the Slytehrin's were good this way, since none of them had stayed to fight in the war, none of the students had returned the next year. Because of that, all faces in the Slytherin table were brand new to her. She just wished that the other students realised that. Hermione had seen a Ravenclaw boy push over a Slytherin girl in one of the hallways. The girl had caught herself but the contents of her bad had tumbled down the stairs. Hermione trembled to think what would have happened if the poor girl had not caught her balance. Hermione still remembered the humiliation in the girl's tear stained eyes as she picked up her belongings while the rest of the school laughed. The only thing that had stopped Hermione from hexing them all was two people rushing forward to help the girl. She remembered them from class. _Helena Horsefall and Fabian Prewett. Slytherin and Gryffindor. At least there is some co-operation going on_. Otherwise, such open hostility, especially after the war, saddened her to the core. It was like the war was for nothing; the hatred had never died even though Voldemort had.

By this time, the bath was almost overflowing. Hermione stepped into the steaming water and closed her eyes. Letting the hot water relax her tense muscles. _I am so tired._ She was allowed to be, after all the heartbreak, the rejection, one thing Hermione Granger was allowed to be was tired.

At that moment there were many things that could be going on in Hermione's mind. She could be reflecting on the new students she had met. She could be wondering what had changed between McGonagall and Malfoy. She could be pondering how to avoid the Seventh Years in the halls. She could be comparing the Hogwarts she knew to the Hogwarts of today. She could just be relaxing, not thinking of anything.

Instead the only image that clouded the horizons of Hermione Granger's mind was one of deep blue eyes looking at her. The only sound she heard was the laughter of a certain professor who guided her through her first day. The only thing she felt was the touch of someone's strong hands in the small of her back as she faced the sneers of the students. A random thought of caution tugged at the corners of her happy place, but Hermione swatted it away and sunk back into the blissful thoughts of her knew colleagues.

She had always liked the name Jake

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_Helena's POV- she's the protective Slytherin_

The sound of infuriated footsteps preceded the entrance of a hurricane into the Entrance Hall of Hogwarts. Most students walked away as Helena Horsefall stomped her way down the Grand staircase, her hair blowing past her shoulders as a result of her speed. The everyday population of Hogwarts knew that if they wanted to avoid nasty hexes, they would stay out of Helena's way when she was in such a foul mood. These foul moods were a regular occurrence.

"Why the hell didn't these stupid people give them a chance! Slytherins weren't that bad, they really weren't yet everyone took the 'noble' Gryffindor's side. _Noble my foot. _If someone like Alexander Aubrey was noble then most of the Slytherins should be made God. Helena smiled ruefully. The sad thing was that the 'brave' house of Gryffindor was full of many more bullying monsters like Aubrey." Stormed Helena, screaming at the crystal hourglasses that recorded house points. Not unsurprisingly the lonely emeralds where, by far, the lowest quantity.

"How dare that cowardly bastard dare touch one of my girls! I am going to break him." Helena announced, glaring into thin air.

"Helen, calm" the gentle tones of Fabian Prewett washed over her. He had been calmly walking behind her, as if this was part of his daily routine. Task 1: control murdering girl on rampage. Sadly it was a regular occurrence in his mental to-do list.

"Go home Fab, this is the Slytherin domain, someone might mug you." It was a lame attempt at sarcasm, it was the best she could do. Helena was tired. The stress of meeting two new teachers, so different from each other, and ending the day with Divination had caused her head to feel like it was composed of lead. She just wanted to lie down. No punch something. Then lie down. But she couldn't, she had to smile and pretend that everything was good. She had taken on a kind of 'motherly' role in the House. People followed her example. But she was not a nice cake-baking mother. She was a furious, angsty mother who was always fighting everyone. Fighting the other students to cut them some slack. Fighting her own house members to behave – to not give 'others' any chance to doubt them. Fighting teachers against unfair punishment. Fighting Poppy when too many visitors turned up to see a patient. Fighting Fabian when he got too close. Fighting herself when her heart told her to let him get close.

Helena caught her breath. Fab had been dogging her for the past three years, giving her flowers, holding her hand, wiping her tears, listening to her problems. Just simple things that touched her heart… had even started to thaw it slightly. Until her cold fury at the world froze it back up again. He still didn't give up. Never asking for anything in return.

When it had started off, at the age of thirteen, Helena had wondered if Fab was talking to her because of a bet. They were, after all, from rival houses. _When you are a Slytherin, ALL houses are rival houses. _Helena thought resentfully. Letting that resentment simmer for a bit before letting it melt back into the tank of emotions that was her mind. Ever since Helena had stepped inside the castle, she had felt like she belonged. She was a little girl, in a castle, learning magic instead of fractions. What could go wrong? Being the Daddy's Girl that she was, she was self-confident and unafraid. Ready to face anything they threw at her. And no one, _no one_, could tell her she didn't belong in a place that felt so right. At least, that was what she told herself every time someone did tell her exactly that. 'They' – the general population of the school – were doing everything in their power to break her, and some days they succeeded. Those days, Helena spent in a depressed stance, ignoring the little Slytherins who flocked around her, dismissing her homework and moddily staring into the common room fire. Until Fabian tried to cheer her up, which would result in Helena screaming at the poor boy.

Helen had always been the sentimental kid. Expressing her various opinions in a loud, unafraid voice. Hogwarts had changed that. Not only had she grown physically – from a short, stringy eleven year old kid to a curvy, elegant sixteen year old almost-woman. She had also lost the naivety she had, she had forgotten the assumption she had unconsciously made – that all people would treat her fairly.

The first time she had cried at Hogwarts was when she had gotten a Troll grade in Divination. Divination was a subject that had intrigued her, interested her. She had read her books before school had started, when the vile Trelawney had questioned the brand new first years, Helena had recited the answers world perfect. Despite all her 'seeing' powers, Trelawney had accused her of cheating from her book, even though said book was right in front of the teacher, and failed her. That was the day Helena lost her toothy smile, and the upward curve of her pink lips had been replaced by a paranoid sneer. The innocent trust in her – that she would be taken care of – had withered away. She knew that in this world she would have to fend for herself. She had slowly grown into that role, fending for all the new students that entered the school, and now, being in Sixth year, she was revered by most of her younger peers and respected by her fellow Sixth Years.

The second time Helena had cried was when her father set her a Howler. The Howler was sent after Helena told him she had been sorted into Slytherin. The Howler had arrived in the middle of Lunch, and her father had screamed at her. Calling her words that she had never thought he would utter, let alone directed at her. She was crestfallen, but she didn't believe him. NO she was not 'evil'. NO she was not sly. Nor was she a fraud. The hat had spoken to her during her sorting. And she had been one of the few unprejudiced ones who had not told the hat straight out that she didn't want to be in Slytherin. Those first few weeks after the Howler, Helena had gone up to Professor McGonagall's office every evening, to beg with the hat. To move her. The hat refused every single time. Over time, Helena settled into her usual routine, walking to class, protecting her charges, ignoring the teachers and walking back. She had attempted to make the common room as homey as possible, but being a First Year, most of her efforts were burnt in the fire before her eyes. That was the old Slytherin house. Now, the previously dark common room was astoundingly beautiful. There were magnificent vases scattered everywhere. Chocolates hidden in random places, left there to be found by students who had been running short in happiness. The gory books – like _Most Potente Potions _– had been removed, to be replaced by warm, fuzzy stories of hope. Tomes of good magic, to learn from. Along with an assorted collection of _Witch Weekly _and _The Quibbler_. Helena had transformed the place.

The third time Helen had cried was when her father ignored her all during her holidays. Helena had exited the train, hoping that her father would have forgiven her. _Daddy loves me._ That was the mantra Helena had recited to herself every time doubt threatened to overwhelm her. But she was met with emptiness. While the rest of the students embraced their parents, Helena stood there, numb. When the station had emptied and the train had left, Helen had stepped through the charmed walls of Platform nine and three-quarters into muggle London. Still, no one was there. Two hours later, her house elf had come to pick her up. Helena had never cried so hard in her life. Just as well, because it was the last time. Never again did salty tears stain her delicate cheeks. She bottled up her sorrow and vented in the form of screaming at everything in sight. _Unhealthy, but at least it doesn't hurt my eyes._ And that was as much Helena thought about the subject. She looked over at Fabian Prewett. She didn't have the energy to fight him. She gave him a rare hug and bade him farewell. As she made her way down to the dungeons, the lonely boy stared at her resigned, defeated shoulder. He promised himself that, somehow, he would make her smile tomorrow.

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_Zachary Ogden's POV – He's the silent Gryffindor who doesn't like Alexander Aubrey (Check Chappie 6 for deets about him)_

As Zach settled into his seat in the library, his thoughts wandered through his day. _Another day wasted among these imbeciles_. Zach despised the better-than-thou attitude that the whole school had, just because their house had been involved in the winning side of the war. He much preferred the unbiased, non-bigoted views of the world that the musty books around him presented.

Ever since being consciously aware of Hogwarts, Zach had longed to be in Ravenclaw, but his war hero of a father had forced him to be in Gryffindor. _Some war hero, no one even remembers his name. The guy was only a second year who snuck in to get a bite of the action._ But Zachary had lacked the courage to defy his father and begged the hat to place him in Gryffindor. That in itself showed that he was completely not suited to Gryffindor. He clearly lacked the pig headed bravery that was a prerequisite for the house. Instead, Zach preferred to while away his afternoons, reading a book in the supple light of the library. It relaxed him, the faint light that braved through the thick windows. Sometimes he just gazed at the stain glass windows, admiring their beauty. After listening to too many Sunday lunches about his fathers 'adventures' in school, Zachary Ogden had realised that people were vain. They saw nothing beyond that vanity, not family, nor the pain of others – may it be sitting under the sweltering sun listening to exaggerated tales or nice enough people being humiliated and tortured in the name of nobility and honour. It sickened Zack… so he stayed away from it, keeping his silence. After all, spending the majority of his time in the library, Zach whole heartedly agreed with Madame Pince's motto in life. _Silence indeed is Golden. _

Zachary's favourite stained window was of a castle, with a paddock beside it. The castle housed a princess and the hill had a tent on it, with a prince residing in it. The picture was pretty enough, but been magical, it moved. And it was bloody hilarious. The princess and the prince didn't get on. Both criticising the others taste in fashion among other things, yet they couldn't stand insults from 'outsiders' such as Zack. They were like an old married couple, just minus the cups of tea. Zack was content in just observing them, they were funny enough without needing help from him. As Zach started on the essay set by 'Jake' as the over enthusiastic teacher begged to be called, Zack remembered Hermione Granger. The new assistant teacher. Zach had wondered briefly; _What the hell is she doing teaching? _But after seeing the zeal with which she explained the Unforgivables, that it was one of those 'vocation' things. Other than reading and learning, Zach had never really had a strong passion for anything, so he couldn't completely relate to the idea. _To each his _own shrugged Zach and moved on, as usual not over judging an individual on such a brief encounter. Following his nature, Zach made it his mission to learn everything about her. He reviewed what he already knew, he had read about her, seen all the shiny trophies in the Trophy Room that Filch spent all his time polishing. He also knew the general facts that were known about all the major contenders in the war, his father had reiterated them every chance he got. One thing Zach did know though, was that with the help of Miss Granger, he could learn new, more complex magic. He was tired of the repeatedly practiced spells that he had mastered eons ago. He was ready for a challenge. Returning to the parchment in front of him, Zach looked up as a forlorn meow drew his attention.

The old cat, Mrs. Norris also liked the library. She sat their quietly, content in catching any mice that strayed towards her corner, but other than that not bothering to move at all – she was after all quiet old, even in cat years. Smiling at the cat, Zachary once again returned his attentions to the essay he was meant to be writing, but was yet again distracted as thoughts of Hermione pestered the borders of his conscious mind. Zach couldn't help but admire Miss. Granger…_ Hermione_, he liked the name. And he especially liked the way she had put that idiot Aubrey in his place with the pig comments. And he also liked how she was nice to Sophia; he himself would be nicer if the girl's over enthusiasm didn't bug him. _Wait._ Zachary Ogden stopped his train of thought and analysed where he stood. It sounded like he was getting too enamoured by a... teacher. _No! That's just creepy. Hermione Granger is just an ACTUAL war hero, an interesting study after the pale example of a warrior that I my father. Yes that was it, everything is still nice, normal and quiet._ Yes, he liked the quiet life. Zachary Ogden, watched the light faint from the bickering couple in the window, before he began his essay on the Unforgivables, relying on candlelight.

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The fiery sun faded as dusk descended on Hogwarts, leaving shadows under the balconies and the trees. As the brooding forest waited for the moon to once again illuminate its dark depths, the lights in the windows of the old castle flickered on. Hermione Granger had just finished her bath. Draco Malfoy was soundly sleeping. Zachary Ogden was working on his Defence Against the Dark Arts homework. Helena Horsefall was helping a First Year with Charms homework. Alexander Aubrey was lounging in the Gryffindor Common Room. Minerva McGonagall was writing a letter to the ministry in her study. All was normal. The sun winked out as the rest of the residents of the castle settled to indulge in their various activities – be it sleeping, gossiping or studying.

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**A/N: I know the whole McGonagall and Draco thing is a bit OOC but I don't want her to be an uptight old woman, you know the whole growing old with grace thing, she's going to be a good friend to Draco. Please Review : ), any ideas/suggestions/criticisms/questions are most welcome. Also, I myself am inclined to prolong this story as long as possible (since I myself adoooore reading full-fledged novels) so tell me if you are ok with the way this is going or would like Draco and Hermione to hurry up already :) tell me, or you may not like the way it turns out. Thanks xx**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Little confusion, sorry. The kids, (Helana, Aubrey etc etc) are in SIXTH year, NOT fifth as I said somewhere in chapter 6 I think, so yeah. They are 16ish. Sorry about that :S Also, I have included a lot of students in this one. But I have specified their houses, so you shouldn't have too much trouble. Hopefully you guys recognise some of them from the previous chapter :). In the spirit of fast approaching Halloween, this one's the Halloween addition :D. Enjoy.**

**Chapter 8: Bad things happen on All Hallows' Eve**

_(25__th__ October)_

The sunny morning dawned on Hogwarts as the students lazily stretched and yawned, grumbling their way down to breakfast. Rubeus Hagrid, the gamekeeper and Care of Magical Creatures professor was inspecting his pumpkins. Halloween was fast approaching, in six short days to be exact. The house elves had been at him, to supply the pumpkins as soon as possible so that they could be carved. The elves wanted an early start this year, looking at the debacle that was last year's Halloween Feast. The pumpkins had almost had to be left out due to accidents concerning who was going to do the actual carving; it was considered a great honour down in the kitchens. Minerva had sorted out the hubbub in the last second by carving out the pumpkin herself, using her wand of course. The elves would not stand for any such debacle this year. In Apple's opinion, things would be done the proper way. So here Hagrid stood, contemplating whether to pick the pumpkins now, or give them a few more days. He had, as usual, secretly performing engorgement charms on the vegetables each night, coupled with his daily singing, the pumpkins had flourished beautifully. They stood as tall as a small house and the elves would be delighted. Still, Hagrid decided to give them one more day in his tender loving care, after all he hadn't said good bye yet. Hagrid petted good bye to Fang and turned towards the castle, he always enjoyed breakfast.

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_Hermione Granger's POV_

Hermione was already up by the time the sun came up. Initially, she had slipped into a comfortable slumber, but she had been haunted by dreams that she could only half remember in the daylight. She had woken up and proceeded to plan the lessons of the day, she was not going to be an absent minded idiot today. As usual, Hermione lost herself in the parchment; by the time she emerged she was almost late for breakfast. As she hurriedly put on her robe, she remembered Halloween was coming up. _Aw crap! I have to go to Honeydukes as well!_ was the last thought Hermione Granger had as she practically ran out of her chambers.

Coming from a muggle family, Halloween was hectic.

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_Draco Malfoy's POV_

Draco Malfoy stepped in to the castle, brushing snow from his robes. He had dressed early and, finding free time on his hands, decided to go for a walk. The light snow that dusted the grounds was beatific, settling an odd calm over Draco. He had always loved snow, and more so Halloween. He had watched from his windows as muggle children dressed up in wacky costumes, asking for candy. They never came to the Malfoy Manor of course, it was magically hidden. That hadn't stopped Draco though; he had stared from the frosted windows, wishing he was having fun in the salted streets of London. Instead he was stuck in the Manor, missing the holidays. Even worse, every time Lucius caught Draco staring wistfully out the window, he cuffed the poor boy over the ear and embarked on a lecture regarding the stupidity and ignorance of muggles, making festivities of the sombre day in the magical world. Lucius went on and on. Draco didn't know how the speech ended, he never listened that long. He assumed the conclusion was something along the lines of Avada Kedavra-ing the lot of them. Draco skipped breakfast and went down to the dungeons, to prepare for his Sixth Year class. _Ah, All Hallows' Eve _he thought as he looked forward to the glorious decorations that he knew Hogwarts 'indulged' in every year.

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_Helena's POV (Slytherin)_

As Helena shepherded the younger Slytherins down to breakfast, she realised that Halloween was fast approaching. She groaned inwardly, Halloween was _torture_. Her smile immediately turned into a frown as she thought about the tricks and 'treats' the other students had in store for them. Having endured six years of taunts, Helena was prepared but she felt sorry for the tentative gaggle of First years that's still hadn't gotten used to the ill treatment they suffered on the merciless hands of their peers. They didn't even know the full extent of it, since the other first years weren't yet as prejudiced as their older counterparts. It was going to get worse for the poor eleven year olds. _A lot worse_, Helena gave the kids around her a pitying looks, before returning to the present and herding them all down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

As the group of Slytherin ascended the steps from the dungeons to the Entrance Hall, Helena sis her best to ignore the sniggers of the passers-by. Holding her head high, she led them all to the Great Hall and pushed open the immense wooden doors. The sight that beheld her brought instant tears to her eyes as she stares in open mouthed anguish at the broken hearts of her kids. Her systems shut down. She had just enough time to tell herself;

_I am not going to cry._

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_Victoria Greengrass' POV (Slytherin)_

Victoria Greengrass stared at her reflection in the slightly foggy bathroom mirror. She could hear sounds from outside, hurried footsteps. _Probably Helena, getting ready. _Vicky continued staring at her reflection, unperturbed. _It's just breakfast, I can be slightly late._ It wasn't that Victoria was self-absorbed – like her older sister, Astoria. Vicky just liked to check that none of her features looked terribly offensive on that day. Being a girl with non-existent self-confident, she liked to make sure that she did as much as possible to pass under the radar of the evil sharks that were the Gryffindors. The Hufflepuffs and the Ravenclaws took pity on her, since she mostly kept to herself and couldn't help but cry at a scathing comment. Coming from a family with two older sisters. Two older, fabulously gorgeous, adored by society, sisters.

While Daphne and Astoria were arguing over which store to visit first in Diagon Alley – Astoria insisted on 'Twilfit and Tattings' and 'Madam Primpernelle's Beautifying Potions', Daphne was more partial to 'Flourish and Botts'. Victoria on the other hand was content with evading notice and slipping into the 'Magical Menagerie' to look at all the interesting magical creatures or spend a whole afternoon, browsing the nooks and crannies of the Apothecary, inhaling the tantalising scents of the various potions bubbling away. Those lazy afternoons spent in Diagon Alley, avoiding being dragged to Madam Malkin's by Astoria, had sparked in Victoria Greengrass an immense love of potions. She adored reading potion instructions, devising ways to make them more efficient. Victoria longed to be a healer, but believed that she would never get there. In her eyes, she was the lesser Greengrass, just a lowly Slytherin that would never end up anywhere in life.

Sighing, Victoria wiped a hand across the sweating mirror, smearing the mist that had formed on the surface of the glass and obscuring her reflection. She quickly got dressed and did her best to cover her tell-tale emerald tie with her robe. As a young Second Year, Vicky used to conveniently 'forget' her tie, as too avoid being chastised by the bullies. However, a stint with Argus Filch wiping the Trophies manually with wax had put an end to that. The foul smell of the beeswax had lingered in Victoria's hair for days afterwards, giving the Gryffindor's another snarky comment about Victoria. Victoria Greeengrass gathered all her books, glad that first lesson was going to be Potions. _Although Professor Malfoy is a bit mean, he's efficient. With Professor Slughorn it took three lessons to brew one potion. _Hunching her shoulders, Vicky descended the stairs to the Common Room. Finding it empty, she hurried her pace, worrying that she was too late for Breakfast. She did not want to attract unwanted attention from the teachers.

She hurriedly made her way to the Great Hall, breathing a sigh of relief as she spotted a group of Slytherin's at the entrance to the hall. But something was wrong. They weren't moving. Victoria slowed down, dragging her steps. _What's wrong?_ She wondered, all sorts of ill thoughts flooding into her mind. Banishing them all she made her way to the silent group. And she stopped. The books in her arms cascaded down to the floor with a resounding crash as she stared first at the Slytherin table, then at the rest of the school and lastly to Helena. As Vicky's tortured gaze turned to the staff table, a wave of horror rolled over her.

_It's Halloween again._

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_Fabian Prewett's POV (Gryffindor)_

As Fabian suspiciously studied the boys in his dorm, a few of them were huddled around Aubrey's bed, whispering away. As Fabian pulled buttoned up his white shirt, covering his exposed torso, he exchanged a look with Zachary Ogden, he appeared just as confused by the on goings. Shrugging, Fab assumed that Aubrey was probably stealing one of his cronies Arithmancy homework and started on his tie. Turning his back on the scheming boys he focused on the ruby red tie. At home, his mother always did the ties and even after six years, Fabian had trouble doing his tie as if it was second nature.

With a pang Fabian spared a thought for his mother, as he did most every day at that precise moment. His father being busy at work as a Healer, and having no siblings, Fab had spent most of his time with his mother, in the kitchen, in the living room, on walks. They visited her friends together; they went to the zoo together. They spend blissful afternoons in Diagon Alley, munching on ice cream. She pushed him on the swings, and as she got older, Fab threaded her needle for her because of her failing eyesight. They had a bond that most sons and mothers lost with time. Fabian rested easy knowing that his father was with his mother, after his retirement. Despite the long hours Fab's Dad devoted to his work, his parents shared the love that they had when they were married. All in all, stable family. Fabian Prewett had good roots, roots that showed in his personality. He was an unprejudiced, all accepting human being who cared for his friends in a wholesome manner – without an ulterior motives. This made him a true Gryffindor, Fab was one of the few people who had not had to beg the Sorting Hat to place him in Godric Gryffindor's house.

Finally getting his tie done to a satisfactory quality, Fabian grabbed his book bag and made his way to the common room. Before exiting through the portrait hole, Fabian waved to Zachary and Gregory, who were conversing with their books open on the coffee table. The thoughts of meeting Helena spurred Fabian on as he picked up his pace eager to see her. Fabian remembered when he first saw her, she was standing in front of him for the Sorting, and he had been enraptured by her bouncing locks as she practically jumped with excitement. Her sweet smile and her rosy dimpled cheeks had caused a genuine smile to take form on Fabian's apprehensive lips as he too, waited nervously for the sorting. On Helena's turn, the hat had shouted out Slytherin, semi-triumphant that he was getting some Slytherins this year. The confused expression on her sweet face and the glistening hurt in her captivating eyes, that had appeared as the rest of the Hogwarts had booed, had touched Fabian's heart, wanting to protect her. That night, his first night in a foreign bed, Fabian had been lost in thought about a certain girl.

The rest of the year he had spent, observing her in class. Cheering at her triumphs and feeling lousy at her losses. After Harry Potter had made Seeker in his First Year, it had gradually become common practice for First Years to be allowed to try out for their house teams. Helena had made Chaser for the Slytherin team. Fabian had cheered his lungs out in support of her. All this while Helena had not even known he existed as she battled with her own daily hurts.

In second year Fabian had been busy rebelling against the Gryffindor norm of being up themselves bastards. The embers of his old crush for Helena had sparked in Fabian's class every time he got close to her, but overall this year was more bearable than the last. Third year however, it had come rushing back. He had watched how she stood up to a bullying sixth year as a trembling Victoria Greengrass had stood cowering behind her, trying to stem the flow of blood from a cut in her forehead. Al the feelings of love and care had broken the dams in Fabian's heart had flowed over him. He had approached Helen. She had stared at him, incredulous, before rejecting him and walking away. He had not given up. Over the years, he had stopped asking her, and she had stopped ignoring him. They had formed a friendship, a solid friendship that did not break despite the day to day chastisement it got from the students. Helena trusted Fabian, and that was all the love he needed from her.

As he entered the Great Hall, Fabian's eyes were drawn to the empty Slytherin table. They hadn't come down for breakfast yet, they usually tended to travel in a close knit pack. However, the table was crowded. Some sick, twisted individual had charmed suits-of-armours to pretend to be Death Eaters. They were garbed in long black robes and wearing Death Eaters mask, except these masks were overly exaggerated and were meant to look funny. Death Mark shaped balloons floated over the table and the entire wall next to it was covered in wanted posters. Someone had put photos of all the current Slytherin students on them. Muggle mannequins were arranged on top of the table, in various positions with fake blood on them.

Bile rose in Fabian's throat as he glared furiously around at the laughing students. Behind him, he heard Professor McGonagall arrive, pause, and rush out again. Probably to get some house elves to clean up the mess. The teachers up at the table were all studiously ignoring the brazen display in front of them. Haughtily stalking to the Gryffindor table Fabian's mind furiously reviewed the possible culprits for this sick Halloween 'joke'. As he passed a suit of armour exaggerating an evil laugh, he punched the suit. It fell to the ground with a resounding crash of metal as its 'mwahaha' was cut off mid ha.

Dreading the effect this would have on Helena, Fabian reached the Gryffindor table and sidled in. He had lost his appetite. As the entire hall fell silent, Fabian looked up. The Slytherins had arrived. The look of utter pain on Helena's face fuelled Fabian's anger. As her beautiful eyes became glossy with unshed tears, Fabian Prewett brushed the glass in his hand and proceeded to ignore the blood that flowed down his hand because of the shards of glass that were now imbedded in his skin.

_I am going to murder Aubrey._

oooooooooooooooooooo

_Rowena Rutherford's POV (Gryffindor)_

Rowena blearily opened her eyes to the bright sunshine. She was not a morning person. Last night had again ended in a screaming match between Alexander and her. Well she had screamed anyway. He had had stood there smirking at her. She had distinctly heard the words 'she's crazy for me' as she had been stomping up to the girls' dormitory. As she had backpedalled and made her way back down, the stones in the walls had trembled in the wake of her anger. Hell, even Aubrey had trembled as she had rushed at him. She landed a couple of punches on his face before they had both fallen over. Disgusted she had gotten up, kicked him in the privates, and stomped back up, muttering ominously. The rest of the Gryffindor's had avoided her.

Today, her knuckles were bruised, yet she couldn't help but let a smile grace her features as she thought of the satisfaction of hearing the crunch as she had punched the rat. Sitting up in bed, she stretched, hearing a few cracks. Wincing, Ro got up quickly splashed cold water on her face. It did the trick and Ro emerged, gasping, but awake. Quickly she jumped into her uniform and ran downstairs, her body clock telling her that he had, yet again, slept in. She paused at the bottom of the steps, browsing the common room. A few stragglers were still seated, including Zachary and Gregory. Smiling at them, she headed out the portrait hole. She had hoped to catch up with Fab or Arabella before breakfast, but they had already gone down to breakfast.

Exiting the corridor, Ro found herself at the top of the Grand staircase, while it was in the middle of its many shifts. Waiting next to her was Aubrey and the posse. Penelope sneered at her, Ro returned the gesture with added interest. Aubrey eyed her warily, but couldn't keep his trap shut. He retorted,

"Here comes the Ravenclaw." Making a jibe at Ro's name.

Mrs. Rutherford, being a true Ravenclaw, and had named her sole daughter after the famous witch of the olden times. Hoping with all her might that her daughter would end up in the great house of leanring. But alas, Ro had followed in her father's footsteps and turned out to be a Gryffindor, according to the Hat anyway. Despite that, Rowena carried her name with pride. She adored her parents, they had instilled in her the honour of family. They had given her the strength to do the right thing, even when it was the harder path to choose. In all her years at Hogwarts, one thing that she had learned was, that Alexander Aubrey was definitely _not_ right. Therefore, she headed in the opposite direction, resisting the ideals that all of Gryffindor had come to adopt. Well, most. There were a few brave souls who still sought to do the right thing, the right thing being, not tormenting the Slytherins for deeds done in the past. Raising a voice against injustice and standing up for the people in need. That was Ro's motto, and she stuck to it.

"Best you can do Aubrey? Well, it's understandable after last night." Was all Rowena graced the sullen group with. She jumped onto the incoming stair, and rushed downstairs. Entering the Great Hall, Ro browsed the Gryffindor table for Fabian. She was half way down the aisle between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, before she noticed the horror that was the Slytherin table. She stared at the debacle, aghast. Then she hurried towards, Fabian, knowing he would be in a foul mood. She braced herself; after all she was the best friend. The only thought in her head as she glared around at the shamelessly laughing students was anger. She knew who was responsible for this, no else could be.

_Alexander Aubrey, I will hunt you down._

ooooooooooooooooooooooo

_Montague Kiely's POV (Slytherin)_

Montague Kiely lounged in the common room, waiting for Victoria Greengrass to come downstairs. He planned to accompany her to breakfast. At the moment though, his only concern was to charm the Fifth Year girls flirting with him. He was good looking, with his smouldering green eyes and dark, black hair. Some might call him a Harry Potter look-alike, if not for the emerald tie hanging from Monty's neck that complimented his eyes perfectly.

Montague Kiely knew he was a dashing devil. He was a self confident, slightly cocky individual – some may call himself absorbed, but his good nature prevented that. Keeping one eye on the entrance to the girls dormitory, Monty recounted for the adoring girls how he had saved the muggle girl next door when she had gotten stuck in a tree. It was a true story. Monty had been nine; the girl – Angie, also nine – was now one of his closest muggle friend. Well close as she can be without finding out about the whole magic thing. He spent most of his time back home with her. Something his 'pureblood' Slytherin parents disapproved of. _But serves them right for living in a muggle suburb._ Monty knew that he was being harsh, his parents had moved at the end of the war to avoid being chastised by the Ministry; however their hypocrisy pissed him off. Firstly, they chose to live there, then spent their time whining about how the neighbours weren't good enough because they were muggles. In Monty's view, he had done what they wanted – gotten into Slytherin – and after the reception he had gotten from the rest of the school, he had decided that that was the last time he was listening to the 'rents.

Hissing in annoyance as even Helena emerged from the staircase with still no sign of Vicky, Monty assumed that she had already gone to breakfast – surprising, because she rarely ventured out alone – and joined ranks with Helena. As one, the rest of the common room got up and followed Helena out, leaving behind an empty common room. With one last look towards the girls' Dormitory, Montague let the stone wall close. Along the way, he wondered where Vicky was, this was the first time in years they had not gone to Breakfast together. Although they were not an official couple, _Hell, we aren't even an unofficial couple_, but that was only because of Victoria. She spurned him, thinking herself not good enough. It was no secret though that Monty was head over heels for the delicate girl with the soft smile. Didn't stop the rest of the girls from friendly flirting, but they all knew that Monty's heart already had a claim to it.

Lost in thought, he drifted in the group headed towards the Hall, until he bumped into the Third Year in front of him. Jolted out of his day dream, Monty was about to swear, when he noticed the expressions of the people around him. They looked broken… disappointed… Helena had tears in her eyes. Helen _never_ cried.

Montague peered into the hall, the three tables that he could see were all staring at them. Craning his neck, Monty looked at the Slytherin table. His heart skipped a few beats. It wasn't even scary, what they had done to the table, the Death Mark balloons looked so fake. Yet, once again the people of Hogwarts had showed the Slytherins where they belonged. As Monty stepped forward to put a comforting arm around Helena, only one thought made it alive past the burning fire that was his rage.

_And I am _not_ going to take this lying down._

ooooooooooooooooooooooo

_Zachary Ogden's POV (Gryffindor)_

Zach had stayed up late the night before and finished his essay on the Unforgivables, two days early. He had stumbled back to the dorm, and collapsed in bed, exhausted. His blissful sleep had been disturbed by the clatter of something falling, followed by a curse. Squinting up, Zachary had spied moving shadows. Not wanting to get involved, her had rolled over and resumed his dreaming as if it hadn't been interrupted. In the morning, a feeling of unease overcame him as he watched Alexander Aubrey and his cronies talk in hushed whispers. Zachary had no doubt that it was Aubrey and co. he had heard thrashing about last night. He shared a look with Fabian before leaving the room.

Gregory Jenkins was waiting for him downstairs. Greg was his best friend, one of the few people who did not take his interest in books as anti-socialism. He was also one of the few who was civil to him without expecting some homework done. Greg wasn't exactly smart – not dumb – but not brainy like Zach. Greg was a Quidditch player, the Gryffindor seeker. What bonded Greg to Zach was their shared hatred of the views held by Gryffindor House. While Zach had a hatred of the house in general, Greg strived to change the image of the misunderstood house, wanting to resotre it back to its former glory. Zach tended to let Greg dream on.

Zach took the stairs two at a time, to get the blood circulating. He was always cold in the mornings and the snow didn't help. Zach encountered Greg sitting on a plump couch, reading a book about the magical creatures. Zach read over his shoulder for a bit, but then pulled out his own potions text, as Greg embarked on a full report about his plan for Halloween. Zach listened good naturedly, but looked up as Greg stopped speaking. He was gazing after the swaying plait of Rowena Rutherford. Shaking his head, Zach stood up, and followed Greg out the portrait hole to breakfast. On the way there, Zach questioned Greg about Ro and enjoyed as his best friend's cheeks acquired a slight pink taint to them. Joking and teasing, the pair made their way to the Great Hall.

Zach spotted the carnage that was the Slytherin table first, and he pulled Greg to a halt. Greg's fingers curled into tight fists as he glared at the disgraceful 'decorations'. Alarm bells were ringing in Zach's head. Last night. He should have stopped those idiots. Feeling ashamed he looked straight ahead, Rowena was standing in the middle of the aisle, in a similar stance to Greg's. Zach left the two to stare at the table as he made his way to the Gryffindor's side of the Hall. Zachary felt completely responsible, but was going to make up for his error one way or other.

_Alexander Aubrey better watch out._

oooooooooooooooooooooo

_Alexander Aubrey's POV (Gryffindor)_

Alexander Aubrey stared smugly at the end result of weeks of preparations. Helena Horsefall was standing at the door, trying not to cry. The sight almost made Alex guffaw. The icing on the cake was the reactions of his fellow Gryffindors.

_The Prewett idiot sat staring at the Slytherin bitch with glass in his skin. Rowena Rutherford, my arch nemesis per say, stood staring openmouthed at the Slytherin table, no doubt murdering me in her head. She's hot when she's pissed. The fool seeker… Gregory Jenkins… stood next to Ro, copying her expression. Best of all was the face of Zachary Ogden, bright red, as he slipped into one of the seats in the Gryffindor table Maybe he saw us after all..._

Alex thought back to last night and of the events leading up to this perfectly orchestrated moment. Planning the whole event had been like conducting an orchestra. All the instruments had to be strung or struck or blown into at the right times to flow together in a melody.

In the dead of the night, Alex and Apophis, had snuck down to the Common Room to meet up with Penelope. In the process of getting out the needed materials, Alex thought that Zachary had woken up, but the idiot had rolled over and continued lightly snoring. In the common room the pair had encountered Camilla Bell and Viktor MacMillan in a rather compromising situation. The couple had been passionately kissing on the plump couch next to the softly crackling fire. Alex had coughed, taking delight in the embarrassed expression that had marred Camilla's features. By that time Penny had appeared and the trio had made their way stealthily down to the Great Hall.

There he had sent Apophis to charm the suits of armor – he was the only one who could perform such complex spells in the limited amount of time that was available, ordered Penelope to engorge the model mannequins and pour fake blood on them, and Alex himself had set about blowing the balloons and letting them float to the ceiling. The mini mannequins and the balloons had been acquired at Zonko's Joke Shop. Overshadowed by Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, Zonko's had become a derelict shop. The mannequins were part of the muggle items on sale and the balloons had been dug up from the storeroom by request. The Death mark balloons had been a gimmick created soon after the end of the war, in a gamble to get the shop its former glory. Fortunately, the masses had not appreciated the sick joke and the balloons stayed on the shelves gathering dust.

Once the deed was done, the three had sneaked back up to the Gryffindor tower and returned to bed. In the morning Viktor had come up to Alex and Apophis and pleaded with them 'man-to-man' to respect Camilla's wishes and not to spread the word about what had happened last night. Amused, Alex had promised not to. He still had to decide whether to make good on the promise or not. Apophis and Alex had followed Fabian down the stairs and headed down to breakfast, not wanting to miss the fun of watching the chaos caused by their joke. On the way there, they had encountered McGonagall storming away from the crime scene, towards the kitchens. Alex had smiled angelically at her, letting his blonde hair flop over his eyes in a display of boyish charm.

He had marvelled at the sight of his efforts in broad daylight, and watched as the rest of the school laughed and pointed. The smile on Alex's face had widened as he and Apophis took a seat on the Gryffindor table. That was when The Slytherin's had entered and Alex had maliciously stared in glee as Helena struggled with her tears. That had been the stamp of approval on the whole operation, a sticker of a job well done. Alex loved Halloween at Hogwarts. He had outdone himself this year.

_Mission accomplished. Slytherins destroyed. _

oooooooooooooooooooooo

_Hermione Granger's POV_

Hermione entered the Great Hall in a rush. She was already up to the Staff table before she noticed the atrocity at the Slytherin table. The fake Death eaters. They were emitting the most exaggerated 'mwahas' she had ever heard. Even Ronald could do better. The floating death marks and the twisted mannequins boiled her blood. Not only was this unacceptable when it came to the treatment of the Slytherin students, this was also blatant disrespect towards the war. All the sacrifices that had been made. This very hall had housed the dead from the war, and a mere six years later, it was adorned with mocking paraphernalia. It disgusted Hermione to the point where she wanted to scream. She stomped up to the Slytherin table and pulled out her wand.

She was about to cast reductor towards one of the 'Death Eaters' when she realised they were charmed suits of armour. Frustrated she stomped her foot, unable to break school rules by destroying school property. She swivelled around to the Staff table again, ready to berate Draco but not finding him there just made her angrier. Fuming Hermione looked around aimlessly for a moment, until her eyes fell on the little, desolate group standing by the door. They looked defeated and dejected. The girl at the front, Helena, had tears in her eyes and was being comforted by her fellow Slytherins. Hermione's eyes narrowed in determination. She knew where Draco would be. Breakfast was almost over, but right after her first class, she was going to give the man what was coming to him.

_Just you wait Draco Malfoy. _

oooooooooooooooooooooo

**A/N: ooooooo cliffie! Well kinda :P Anyway, I hope that wasn't too confusing. Also, it is very late at night as I type this, so apologies for any mistakes in spelling or grammar. I have re-read this twice already and I lack a beta so I do not know if I have missed any errors. Anyway, my chapter length is slowly improving, so I'm happy about that. I also realise that this isn't a personal diary so I am going to shut up now and let you review *death stare* :P but seriously, I only have 6, I want more :D**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Sorry for the delay people, exams :/ but they are the last ones… EVER! :D, ok here's Chappie 9. Concerns: This is the first time I'm writing major dialogue between people, so there aren't many personal thoughts… tell me how it goes without them. Also, this story is going in a direction that I had not planned, but I still want to put in my planned events so this is going to be one long fanfic haha good luck :P ok, you can read now.**

**Chapter 9: Shouting is way better than talking**

_Draco Malfoy's POV_

Draco glared impatiently at the almost empty classroom. Only a handful of his students had shown the courtesy of attending class – namely, Sophia Abbott, Camilla Bell, Marcus Flint, and Viktor MacMillan. The four students had been waiting for him outside the classroom when he had arrived, obviously missing breakfast. Sophia and Marcus had stood alone, on the opposite corners of the hallway, one Gryffindor and one Slytherin. Camilla and Viktor **[A/N that was the couple that was making out in the common room]** were huddled near the door, whispering something. Draco had opened the door and let the small group in, slightly proud that they deemed Potions important enough to arrive early.

Draco had proceeded to wait patiently for the rest of his class to dwindle in, alas, the lesson had officially started eight minutes ago and there was still no sign of flustered students. Sophia Abbott appeared annoyed, probably worried about finishing her potion in time. _I am going to count to ten, and if I don't have a full class until then, Minerva is going to hear about this. _Draco took a deep breath, trying to prolong the moment as long as possible, as ruthless as he pretended to be, he did not want any of his students getting into trouble. Seeing as half of the late kids were from Slytherin House.

_One…_ a dripping sound was all that could be heard as the water from the lake above slowly wore the stones of the dungeon down, one cold drop at a time.

_Two…_ Camilla Bell emitted a shrill giggle, which was quenched as soon as Draco's flint grey eyes gave her one of his withering glares.

_Three…_ Draco's fingers curled tightly around the wooden table. He did not like tardiness.

_Four… where is everyone?_ Sophia Abbott put her hand up in the air, bursting with the need to say something. _The girl really reminds me of Granger_ Draco mused, before remembering to count again.

_Five…_ Sophia still had her hand up in the air, Draco felt bored so he amused himself by seeing how long the girl could keep it up.

_Six…_ Draco stared right at Sophia, silently challenging her to say something. Sophia didn't have nerve to open her mouth without permission in front of the seemingly cold hearted Potions Master. Yet she didn't lower her hand, continuing the charade with hardened eyes behind bulky glasses.

_Seven…_ Draco looked at the door, tearing her eyes from the tireless Sophia, bored.

As if my magic **[A/N hehe]**, the Gryffindor posse entered the classroom. Aubrey led the group followed by Apophis and Penelope, Aubrey looked smug as he threw his bag haphazardly against the back wall and slouched down in one of the benches. Slightly lagging, a glowering Arabella and Rowena entered, shadowed closely by an equally angry looking by Zachary Ogden and Gregory Jenkins.

Draco, noticing the lack of emerald ties, was about to comment when the Slytherins also entered. Draco's eyes widened slightly at the appearance of the small group. Victoria Greengrass, with slumped shoulders, was being led into the room by the hand. Montague Kiely was at the other end of the hand, gently but firmly pulling Victoria in, both their bags hanging from his shoulder. After delicately seating her in a middle bench, Montague walked up to Draco.

"Professor, apologies for our lateness. We were… delayed… by the events that occurred during Breakfast."

Not alluding to the fact that he had no idea what 'events' had transpired, Draco questioned Montague.

"That's very well Mr. Kiely, but where I fail to see Miss Horsefall and Mister Prewett among your crew, would you know where they are?" Draco's voice was steely, but the grey orbs that looked at Montague Kiely were soft and sympathising. Draco had noticed the bedraggled appearance of Montague and Victoria. Something had obviously happened to his **[A/N: please notice the HIS] **Slytherins during Breakfast.

"They are both at the Hospital Wing. Sir."

Draco looked questioningly at Monty, receiving no further elaboration; Draco dismissed Montague Kiely who returned to take a seat next to Victoria Greengrass.

Draco flicked his wand and once again words appeared on the chalkboard. This time they were instructions on making a batch of 'Unctuous Unction'. Draco proceeded to explain the purpose of this particular complex concoction.

" Unctuous Unction, a very cleverly named potion indeed. An 'Unction' is an ointment, while 'Unctious' refers to being flattering and friendly… in a slimy sort of way. This potion, if brewed to perfection, will persuade the drinker that the giver is his or her best friend. The instructions are there in front of you, I want a vial full from each of you by the end of this lesson. You may begin."

Sophia Abbott had rushed to begin even before the words were out of Draco's mouth. The rest of the class, however, seemed a slightly more lethargic. Dawdling over their cauldrons or, as in Victoria Greengrass' case, staring blankly at their empty desks. Draco took a seat in the hard wooden chair as he stewed in a mixture of emotions – largely curiosity mingled with concern. He couldn't help but imagine what had happened to Fabian and Helena, even though this was only his second day; Draco was staring to form an attachment to his Sixth Year class. The younger students were too distracted and simple minded to hold his attention for too long. The Seventh Years were too fresh from the war; they knew Draco's history and hated him for it. Well, Draco returned the favour. Idiots who held the past so closely that they were blinded to the future… well, they just weren't worth the effort. That was one thing Draco had learned from the war.

Just as Draco was getting warmed up to the subject, Fabian Prewett entered the room. He stood at the archway, waiting for someone it seemed. When no one else appeared, Fabian retreated back out of sight and returned with a mute Helena, whom he guided with an arm around her shoulder. Draco was surprised by this comradely display between a Gryffindor and a Slytherin, still he pursed his lips to stop any scathing comments tumbling out. He watched wide slightly widened eyes as Fabian led Helena to the front of the classroom and seated her. Taking a place beside her, Fabian stared at Draco, daring him to comment.

Under different circumstances, Draco would have maliciously berated the pair for their tardiness, pausing only long enough to revel in the laughter of the other students. Much like he had when he attended Hogwarts. But this called for a more delicate approach. Acting as if everything was normal, Draco explained to the two what was required of them in the lesson. And so, the morning wore on as the silent group of Sixth Years focused on making the unction that would help towards their grade for the term.

As the students filed past Draco, placing their vials on the disarrayed pile growing on his desk, he smiled tightly at every single one of them. Partly because he was quite pleased with the blue shade of all the potions and partly in an attempt to brace himself for what he was about to do. Roughly coughing his throat, Draco waited until all eyed were on him.

"Would members of the Slytherin House – Helena Horsfall, Montague Kiely, Victoria Greengrass and Marcus Flint, please stay behind. I would like a word. The rest of you are dismissed."

Alexander Aubrey snickered as he passed the troubled looking group. The Slytherins looked at each other in apprehension, not sure of what to expect from their new Head of House but knowing it was not going to be anything pleasant. Draco was about to commence speaking when he sensed an uninvited audience.

"If you are going to eavesdrop, you might as well come in before I take of points from your house." Draco tersely said, expecting the culprits to flee. Instead he heard a crash as someone dropped their books, and three shifty looking teenagers walked into the room. Arabella Archibald, Rowena Rutherford and Fabian Prewett.

"Gryffindors always had an unhealthy obsession with not minding their own business. I see that nothing has changed." The Slytherins looked startled at this mild jab at the revered house. No one ever dare question the Gryffindors, ever. An expected blush coloured the trio as Arabella burst out.

"If you are about to discuss what I think you are about to discuss, then I think we three have a right to be here. And we weren't eavesdropping either; we just like to educate ourselves of the goings on of Hogwarts." Arabella explained in a half hearted way, knowing it sounded bad and expecting to be kicked out in any moment. Instead, Draco was interested in seeing where this little meeting took them, seeing it was lunch time, he had enough time to talk to the group. Sitting on his desk, Draco looked at each of his house members, ignoring the Gryffindors for the moment.

"Would anyone be willing to explain to me what happened during Breakfast, I apologise that I wasn't there." Everyone was slightly stunned at the polite introduction. They were more used to be yelled at and accused. Helena's sprits lifted a bit. Maybe there was still hope. She was about to say something when another Gryffindor stepped in, Rowena this time.

"What happened? WHAT HAPPENED! I'll tell you what happened! The most disgraceful display of idiocy in the bloody history of Hogwarts is what happened! Some vile, foolish, idiotic smart ass decided that it would be amusing to play a Halloween joke. A BLOODY JOKE! You know what they did? They decorated the Slytherin table with bloody fake Death eaters and ridiculous balloons. How pathetically mindless is that? It was all I could do not to punch someone." Rowena abruptly stopped, breathing in deep gasps of air. Trickles of dust floated down from the ceiling as Ro's screaming rant echoed in the eardrums of the unfortunate audience. Arabella looked at her with a look of pride, while Fabian looked bemused. The Slytherins all looked flabbergasted, shocked to see a Gryffindor standing up for them.

"Thank you for the discerning explanation Rowena, would also happen to know who committed the 'most disgraceful display of idiocy'?" Draco asked with a laugh in his voice. The Slytherins just stood in silence, too stunned to take in the turn of events. No one knew whether to laugh at Potions Master turned nice or to cry as everything familiar shattered around them. They chose to do nothing, for the meanwhile.

Rowena, looking pleased, continued in a much softer tone.

"Of course I know, it was Aubrey." She clearly stated, not in the habit of talking in riddles.

"I see, your proof?" Draco questioned, not unsurprised with the person who had executed the atrocity.

"I have none. But I swear to you, this was that rat Aubrey's doing. I know it." Rowena replied after a light pause, uncertain whether Draco would believe her or not.

"Oh I have no doubt Miss Rutherford, in my opinion, mister Aubrey is perfectly capable of dreaming up such a… 'joke'… but we will need proof to see any form of justice done."

The group contemplated Draco's words in silence, pondering upon what they could do to help justice be dealt. For the first time, ever since the meeting had started, Fabian Prewett stepped forward. He stood at an angle, half facing Helena. In a sombre tone he began.

"What Aubrey did, it was petty. Childish… Yet, it managed to be incredibly hurtful." Fabian looked down at his hand, then faced Helena again and held her gaze.

"I will make him pay Helen, I promise you. That bastard will suffer for causing you pain. I swear to you." Fabian whispered, his fingers curling into fists. Draco watched the drama unfold with curiosity. Suddenly animated, Fabian turned to face Draco.

"I have a plan.. yes.. I have a plan! If you could arrange a meeting with Professor McGongall…" Fabian broke off, looking at Draco expectantly. Hope in his eyes. Reluctantly, Draco nodded. He didn't want to bother Minerva with high school drama… but this was serious and the boy might be on to something.

"Good, I will see _all_ of you there then. Professor Draco can contact us when the meeting is set up." With that a grinning Fabian stepped forward and gave a stunned Helena a hug.

"It'll all be alright" he whispered into her ear, as she hugged him back. She believed him.

The slightly more energetic group made their way out. Arabella and Rowena nervously extending their friendships to the rest of the Slytherins. Draco felt a grin form on his face as he saw the Slytherins, just as nervously; accept the tentative olive branch that the proud Gryffindors were offering.

It had already been a long day, and he still had two more classes to go, but Draco felt accomplished. He could see that for the first time in a long while, someone had showed kindness to the sad group of Slytherins. If he had anything to do about it, they would soon be seeing a lot more.

Satisfied Draco leaned back into the chair, staring out at the empty, slightly messy classroom.

oooooooooooooooooooooo

_Hermione Granger's POV_

Hermione tapped her foot as Professor Flitwick detained her. Flitwick had been spouting rubbish about unicorn horns for the last twenty minutes. Hermione was sick of it and was waiting for opening in which she could excuse herself and escape. Alas, Hermione missed her golden opportunity as Flitwick took a breath, but she wasn't fast enough and the short professor continued his ramblings. Tuning out Hermione looked around her.

The mess on the Slytherin table had been cleaned up, no sign remained of the disaster that been Breakfast. Shuddering Hermione squeezed her eyes shut. Seeing the broken students, standing at the doors of the Hall, had affected her more than it should have. They weren't her responsibility. Well not completely, they were Malfoy's responsibility. It wasn't her fault that the blond idiot could not step away from the hair gel long enough to help his floundering house. Hermione had somehow endured her way through the third year DADA lesson. They were doing Boggarts and it had taken the class ten whole minutes to say 'Riddikulus' with an emphasis on the 'KYOO' syllable instead of the 'DI' sound. It had exasperated Hermione and she was ready to lock one of the students in the cupboard that was occupied by the Hogwarts boggart.

Narrowing her eyes, Hermione pretended to sneeze. Very loudly. As Professor Flitwick paused in his explanation of unicorn blood, Hermione took the opportunity to back away from him. Using the excuse of a bad cold coupled with a need to prepare for her next lesson. When her old charms professor looked a bit deflated, due to the fact that he now had no one to bore to tears. Hermione took pity on him and complimented the choir on its latest performance, not that she had heard it. Leaving behind a placated, smiling Flitwick, Hermione rushed out of the Great Hall. She paused in the Entrance Hall for a few heartbeats, trying to remember exactly where the Potions classroom was in the labyrinth that was the dungeons of Hogwarts castle. Finally locating it in her memory, Hermione determinedly made her way to her old Potions classroom. To confront the _new_ Potions teacher, Draco Malfoy.

Making her way through the shadowy bowels of the castle, Hermione looked around at the bare, stone walls. She had not wandered down to the dungeons the whole time she had been back. Taking her time, Hermione recalled memories that were related to this secluded part of Hogwarts. Her mind's eye conjured up ghosts of Slytherins, strutting around the rock hallways. Huddles of children, standing outside classrooms, waiting for their teachers to arrive. Being hexed by Pansy Parkinson, Hermione's teeth had taken days to get back to normal. So many memories, good and bad. It dawned on the brunette that the best – and the worst – memories in her life were of Hogwarts. The castle was her home, her prison. It was the place in which she had found herself, and also the one that branded her a mudblood. With muddled emotions, Hermione forced herself to stop continuing with that train of thought. Her mission was to talk to Draco, and she was not going to let nostalgia distract her.

Bracing herself, Hermione turned the final corner. At the end of the dark corridor, the door of her old potions room stood open. The speckled light from the barred semi-arch window just behind the door let in greenish mottled light. Shivering slightly from the cold that was starting to engulf her, Hermione determinedly made her way to the door. Since Draco hadn't been at Lunch, she had assumed he was down here. Hermione didn't want to think about what she would do if he wasn't in the classroom, because that would mean that she would have to check his personal rooms. And that was the last thing she wanted to do. Crossing the acutely decorated stone arch above the doorway, Hermione peered in. Draco was bent down on his desk, concentrating on something.

Hermione coughed lightly, hoping to catch the blond man's attention. When Draco didn't look up, Hermione coughed louder and knocked on the wall beside her. Finally getting Draco's attention, Hermione advanced, walking right up to his table. By this time, Draco had stood up, looking at Hermione with a questioning expression. Hermione gulped once, she had expected to be screamed out of the room, that was what she was ready for. _Not_ for a civil conversation. Rethinking her tactic, Hermione sat on the front bench and made herself comfortable, desperately stalling because she had no way to approach Draco in this new light. Finally deciding, Hermione looked right at Draco and blurted;

"You weren't at breakfast today." Feeling slightly deflated because of the anticlimax, Draco resumed his seat.

"I thought you were going to say something slightly more interesting than that Granger, and yes, good observation. I was, indeed, absent from the Great Hall this morning."

Hermione's temper started to rise at Draco's sarcastic tone.

"Well, because of your _absence_, you missed the heinous display of prejudice that was the Slytherin table today. Some foolish students, decorated the table with rather… vulgar… baubles, but the point is that _you_ should have been there. To take care of your students! You are their Head, they look to you for guidance, and you leave them blundering around blindly. They needed you today, and you were doing god knows what. You are so useless! I don't even have the words to describe the expression on those poor children's faces, and what they needed most was support. Support that _you_ weren't there to provide!" Hermione paused. Her harsh breathing resonating loudly in the silent room. Hermione's coffee eyes glared at Draco's flint grey ones.

"You done?" Draco growled in a low voice. The silent threat caused Hermione's anger to flare up again and she spat out;

"NO!"

The dams that were Hermione's emotional barriers burst open, letting all of Hermione's muddled sentiments flow over her like a torrid flood.

"You don't deserve this. Any of this. McGonagall has been too kind to you. Giving you responsibility to care for these children, when's its clear that you don't care for anything let alone a bunch of angsty teenagers. I don't know where her ridiculous trust in you comes from, but I know that it is misplaced. I came applied for that job, I should have gotten it. And then you come from nowhere, ruining everything. Just like you always have. You don't deserve this second chance, how can you even look at yourself in the mirror every morning? Because it is obvious that you spend painstaking hours placing every single strand in place. Your priorities are messed up Malfoy and you are completely delusional thinking you can do this. You are nothing but a selfish, undeserving Death Ea- " Hermione was cut off as a raging Draco screamed at her.

"That's enough!"

His thundering voice echoed throughout the empty hallway, Hermione stared at Draco, stunned while he tried to calm himself. Hermione had just been trying to vent, obviously not a good decision, but she had lost control. Everything she had felt in the past few days had come tumbling out, and she hadn't been able to stop. Now she was regretting it. Draco looked furious.

Draco opened his screwed shut eyes and talked to her in a surprisingly calm voice.

"You have no fucking right to talk to me like that.. Granger. See I am not going to stoop down to name calling, unlike you. You do not know me. So do not pretend to. What I was, what I am and what I will be is none of your bloody business. You are in fit state to judge what I deserve, and I what I care about. On a lighter not, I am well aware of what occurred at breakfast today, and I have taken steps to correct that malady. Now if you would please calm yourself and leave. I have a class waiting."

Hermione stared at Draco, slack jawed. She had been rendered speechless for the first time in a long long time. It took her a moment to register what Draco had said. She whirled around. There was indeed a group of First Years gawking at the scene inside with wide eyes. Hermione turned back to Draco,

"We need to talk about this. Come to my room after dinner."

When Draco's passive features showed to signs of altering, Hermione whispered;

"Please." And hurried out to her own class. Draco stared after her fuming. The First Years resigned themselves to a cranky Potions teacher and cauldron full of homework.

Draco dreamed up essay topics while the First Years filed in and took their seats

oooooooooooooooooo

_Meanwhile outside._

A group of six students were sitting beside the Black Lake, shaded by a massive oak tree. One dark haired girl threw in food for the Giant Squid to feast on. The rest sat around in their own silences, contemplating the problem they had been faced with. Arabella, Rowena, Fabian, Victoria, Montague and Helena were huddled around the trunk of the ancient tree. Incidentally the same tree that the Golden Trio used to spend their afternoons under. Arabella spoke up first, unable to stare pensively at the glassy surface of the lake any longer.

"So, what exactly IS the plan Fab?" She questioned, clearly unbelieving that he actually had one. Ro backed her up.

"Yes, do tell," Ro teased, poking Fabian in the side.

Fabian grinned, revealing slightly crooked teeth, they just added to the handsomeness.

"Your faithless attitude kills me." He mocked, still grinning. "I actually have a real plan you know. But all will be revealed whenever Professor Malfoy manages to get us a conference with good old McGonagall" Fabian theatrically declared.

Helena watched this side of Fabian, intrigued. Whenever he was with her, he was serious and silent. Listening to her rant and comforting her when she was done. She didn't recognize this joking, teasing, grinning Fabian. It was like Fabian Prewett was a whole new person when he was with his friends. _His best friends. _Helena thought, with a twinge of jealousy.

As much as she relied on the serious Fabian, she wouldn't mind getting to know the boy who was laughing in front of her. She watched wistfully as Fabian chased Rowena around the tree. Arabella teamed up with him and caught Ro on the other side. Cornered, Ro tried to fight her way out both the pair pounced and tickled her until tears were streaming down her cheeks. When Fabian and Arabella finally stopped, the helped a hiccupping Ro to her feet and the merry trio started making plans for the upcoming Hogsmeade trip. They had no worries in the world. Helena wanted to be them. Vicky came to sit beside the silent Helena.

"Isn't it nice that we all have a free period." Victoria tried to start a conversation. Helean didn't take the bait, she continued staring in the opposite direction. Silent as a rock.

"Fine don't talk, you can listen instead." Vicky half threatened, still getting no response, she continued.

"You know when I saw that ghastly table, all decorated like that. I felt so angry. Helen, you were standing beside me. Your eyes… they looked so empty. That is the first time, in ages, that I have seen you broken. I would have cried if not for you. Seeing you like that gave me strength. You are the mother hen you know, you take care of everyone, even the Sixth Years'. You deserve a break every now and again. You aren't alone this time. You always face the enemies, the bullies, by yourself. Never complaining. But they have gone too far, we are all with you. All of us, Monty, me, even Marcus. Together we will fight until whoever did that is expelled. I promise you that." Victoria became silent again, it was a short speech, but Vicky spoke with such emotion that Helena turned to her, eyes shining.

"Thank you." Was all she could manage. _Jeez today really is an emotional day._

Monty came up to the silent girls.

"You notice anything odd Vicky? I notice something odd. Our Helen isn't kicking, screaming anf being loud in general. The silence is weird innit?" Monty jested, successfully extracting a tiny smimle from Helen's drawn lips.

"That's better" Monty claimed before forcing himself in the middle of the two girls. He enveloped both girls in a hug and there the Slytherins sat in content silence. Even thought things were falling apart around them, they were happy to be together. As the Slytherin trio stared out at the Black lake, dreaming about better days. The Gryffindor trio leaned against the tree, laughing and joking, no cares in the world.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooo

_Minerva McGonagall's POV_

This odd scene was being observed by the somber Headmistress of Hogwarts. Minerva McGonagall turned away from the arched window and returned to her table. She would have to do something about the disaster that was breakfast. She had woken up that day, feeling happy about Halloween. Minerva had always enjoyed the festivities around the school, so close to the holiday season. The soft snow dusted the vast grounds of the castle, and the most comfortable spot was curled up in bed reading a novel and sipping hot chocolate. Although Minerva had grown quite old, she hadn't quite grown out of that self-indulging habit.

Minerva had walked to breakfast in high spirits, looking forward to talking to Filius about unicorn blood and it's uses, but the happiness had evaporated from her. As fast as a drop of water does when dropped on a hot skillet. The dreadful sight of the bedecked Slytherin table had chastised Minerva, to the point that she had not been able to help but storm back to her chambers. It appalled her that a student, a Hogwarts student no less, had the gall to attempt such a prank. Immediately afterwards, Minerva had summoned a few house elves to clean up the Great Hall. The rest of the day had been sent looking into the Pensieve, trying to learn from past experiences. Minerva had been taking a break from her exhaustions, when she had spotted the mixed group under the tree.

She had watched in curiosity as the Slytherins and the Gryffindors interacted without any hexes being used. _Maybe there is some hope after all. _Without warning, the gentle tones of Albus Dumbledore filled the room. "Remember Minerva, hope can be found even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light." Minerva nodded. Even though the painting was but a pale representation of the man that had been Dumbledore, the quote was one of his favorite sayings. And it what she needed at the moment. Thankful for the support, Minerva thanked the portrait. Genially, the painted figure replied, a papery twinkle in the oil painted eyes, "Blubber, nitwit, oddment, tweak!" and with that Dumbledore turned sideways and started talking to a sulky Snape.

Shaking her head Minerva pulled out a new piece of parchment. _Some things never change_ she thought, smiling. She was smiling because, with her incredible experiences, Minerva knew –that change, wasn't always a good thing. Minerva had just dipped her white owl feather in the deep blue ink, when a sharp rap on her door made her look up.

The Sorting Hat, deciding to wake up, spoke up. "I wonder who that is!"

Minerva shot the fraying hat a withering look, annoyed by the unhelpful input. The crease in the hat, that was the mouth, pursed up and the fabric looked smooth again.

"Enter" Minerva said, loud enough to carry through the heavy oak doors.

Draco Malfoy walked in, taking a seat in front of her table without an invitation. Minerva fixed a questioning gaze on him. He started to talk.

"Professor, this morning at -"

Minerva cut him off, not wanting to hear the details of the gory scene again.

"I know Draco, I saw. I ordered the elves to clean it up."

"That's good. It would be bad for the kids to be influenced by that garbage for more than what is absolutely necessary. The breakfast… incident, is what I am here in regards to. A few of my Sixth Years, have shown… strong emotions… about what transpired. They want to help and -"

Minerva was once again about to interrupt but Draco didn't let her.

"Just listen to me Minerva! I think they are really on to something! Just hear them out. Give a time, when you are free. I will have them all standing here in front of you."

When Minerva's featured remained stony, Draco chose his words carefully.

"It would be a terrible defeat to let the prejudices to triumph… especially after all the losses we suffered in the war… to stop them."

Draco, without waiting for a reply, turned around and walked out of the door. Leaving behind a pacing cat with spectacle markings around her eyes, a smiling, portrait of a greasy haired Potions master, and a gently dozing Dumbledore. The crease in the hat appeared, "Well, that boy has changed," the hat declared in a pompous, all-seeing manner. The crease disappeared before the cat could rip the piece of cloth to shreds.

ooooooooooooooooooo

As Draco stood on the spiraling stone staircase, only one thought occupied his mind.

_I hope those kids know what they are doing._

However, this concern was quickly eclipsed by something bigger that had been knowing on him all day.

He still hadn't decided whether to visit Hermione or not.

_Damn, Granger._

oooooooooooooooooooo

**A/N: Firstly, I know the quote from Dumbledore is' Happiness..', not Hope, but the moment called for it. That's about it from me I guess, realllly tired. So please please please review, and I will see you next time :) well not literally see, but you know… now click that blue button. (L)**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: OK, I have been writing this for what feels like yonks now. This chapter changed course like 50 times before I finally settled on how I wanted it. A few days ago, I saw HP 7 Part 1 (WOOOOOOO!) and realised that I do not hate Ron after all, he can be quite adorable in an awkward cute kinda way. Sooooo, this fanfic isn't going to be as ron-bashy as I was thinking….. but don't worry, Hermione still ends up with Draco. Also, I apologise because I have been too lazy to just sit down and write this :S Hopefully people still remember this… thank you to those you do :) **

**Chapter 10: One step forward, two steps back**

As the evening sun crawled towards the horizon, the castle started to settle down for the day. Beacons of lights came on in random windows, as lanterns were lit in preparation for the oncoming darkness. The castle glittered like a decorated Christmas tree, the dim windows of light working together to form an inferno that lit the ground, far below, and the thin ledges of the several windows. A distance away, in the little village of Hogsmeade, Madame Rosmerta dispatched her elf up to Hogwarts with a bottle of aged elderflower wine as the late night pub goers made their way into the Three Broomsticks. The elf with the wine apparated all the way to the gates, taking care with the bottle his mistress had given to him. Obeying Hogwarts rules, the elf made his way up to the castle on foot, since – being an outside elf – he couldn't transport himself magically inside the castle. Waving hello to the kitchen elves gathered around Hagrid's pumpkin patch, the elf made his way up Hogwarts various hallways and staircases until finally he delivered the bottle to the Headmistress of Hogwarts herself – Professor McGonagall. Helping his mistress serve such high customers pleased the elf almost to the point of tears. Bowing out of the headmistress' office, the elf bowed numerous times, his long nose touching the plush carpet. Scurrying back down to the gates of Hogwarts the elf had a smile on his face, revealing several missing teeth. He knew his mistress would be pleased.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

As the elf with the unfortunately long nose bowed out of her office, Minerva McGonagall placed the specially fetched bottle of wine on her cleaned table. She had set all the Ministry parchments on one corner of the table, and the detentions and suspensions list on the other. The rest of the mess had been hastily shunted to the drawers behind her desk. Sinking down on her spongy chair; Minerva drummed her fingers on the desk, waiting impatiently for Draco to arrive with his students.

"Stop that infernal noise Minerva! I am of a considerable age and trying to sleep!" the Sorting Hat commented, the crease in the fabric stretching wide as the Hat yawned. Just as it seemed that the cloth would tear, the Hat snapped its mouth shut with a muffled thud.

"Now is not a good time to test my patience…" threatened Minerva as she grew evermore irritable. The school was still in an uproar with the whole Slytherin incidence. The Ministry was at her back, pestering her to start student programs that promoted unity, 'inject a sense of togetherness, you know?' had been the Minister's exact words. The new Minister of Magic, another character like Fudge. It seems that the only leaders the Magical community could elect were hideously scary ones – like Scrimgeour or the downright ridiculous cartoons – like Fudge, and now Gerard 'call me Gerry' Prichard. Thank Merlin, the Ministry hadn't found out about the incident yet. That box of trouble was barely contained and here she was twiddling her thumbs. Frustrated Minerva looked at the ancient clock on the shelf beside the hat. It was a legacy of Dumbledore's and probably of Headmasters before him as well. The clock was perfectly designed to suit a typical Head's day. It started with the obvious waking up and ended with a 'sigh of relief' that Minerva assumed was sleeping. People always underestimated the stress that came with being the head of a school, especially one so diverse and full of potentially dangerous students. Ever since Voldemort, the Ministry had been putting pressure on the schools around Europe, especially Hogwarts, to keep their students in check. Minerva had already received a letter from Olympe Maxime, complaining about the irritating weekly reports all the schools had to submit to the Minister, as if running a school full of magical teenagers wasn't hard enough. Sighing, Minerva turned her attention towards the window, it had started snowing again. Snow always soothed her, especially at night. The addition of colour to the blackness somehow comforted her. Sighing again, Minerva resumed the tapping of her fingers against the polished mahogany table. Waiting.

ooooooooooooooooooooooo

Fabian Prewett paced across the Gryffindor common room, his mind working furiously. He was torn between revising his plan in his head and being angry at Helena. Behind him, Rowena sat in the comfy armchair, gazing into the dying embers of the fire, still spluttering in the darkening fireplace. There was a party in the Astronomy Tower that night, thrown by the Ravenclaws in celebration of someone birthday. No one really cared whose; they were there because it was invite only. Being there was quite an achievement, one that everyone quietly savoured – when they could make time in between savouring the butterbeer and the various foods produced by the house elves. Of course all the Gryffindors had been invited, no party made a mark on the social calendar if the Gryffindor's weren't there. Rowena, being an out-and-about socialite, had really wanted to go, but naturally this was the night – out of all other free, empty, boring nights – that the Headmistress had invited them to talk. Sulking Rowena glared moodily at the fire, breaking her gaze long enough to comment,

"Oh stop pacing! It is NOT going to make her hurry up."

Fabian turned around to glare at her, a scowl that Ro returned gladly. Nothing like a fight to make her night, and if Aubrey wasn't here… well she would have to make do with Fabian. They glowered at each other for a few seconds, before Fabian broke into a smile.

"You look so hilarious with that scowl on your face! Any lower and those eyebrows will reach your chin!" he guffawed, ignoring the daggers that Ro continued to shoot. After a while Rowena gave up, she wasn't really going to punch Fab, again that was a pleasure she reserved for Alexander freakin' Aubrey.

"Did I keep everyone waiting?" came a disembodied voice, seconds before Arabella rushed down the stairs. She had damp hair and the edges of her robes appeared wet. Fab groaned,

"You just HAD to take a shower tonight. Merlin!" he exclaimed, grabbing Arabella by the sleeve and tugging her towards the portrait hole, a still moody Rowena in tow.

oooooooooooooooooooooooo

The trio tumbled out of the portrait hole, ignoring a frowning Fat Lady. Instead, acknowledging the source of her disapproval; Professor Draco Malfoy and his posse of Slytherins.

"I see you finally decided to grace us with your presence…. After five bloody minutes of standing around listening to the yabbering of that puffed up, pink frilled ball!" Draco's voice, starting off calm, gained momentum until the last syllable was practically a yell.

The hall was momentarily filled with noise as the Fat Lady exclaimed 'Hey', which was quickly lost amid Arabella's 'fashionably late!' and Fabian's laughter. As silence reigned again, the odd group walked through the hallways of the Seventh Floor, making their way down to the Headmistress' office. Fabian drew back, to talk to Helena, as Arabella chatted with Monty and Vicky. Rowena and Draco walked in silence as they both moodily stared into thin air – contemplating drastically different issues. Ro was still bitter about missing the party of the term, just a few staircases away in the tower right across from the Gryffindor tower while Draco imagined McGonagall murdering him in various gruesome ways. He was starting to regret this, these kids – the ones that had seemed smart, strong willed and purposeful in the morning light now just seemed like a group of chatting, gossiping, _normal_ teenagers. An ominous feeling growing in his stomach, Draco led his students down into the main body of the ancient castle. The phrase _his students_ still left an odd taste in his mouth… even when uttered in his mind.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Hermione hastily tidied her chambers, shoving the scattered clothes in her laundry basket and sweeping the muggle chocolate wrappers under the bed. One thing Hermione had lost over the years was her freakish neatness – though not a slob yet – she wasn't the most obedient follower of the rule 'put crap back where you take it from', at least that was the version that was in her head… she was fairly certain that profanity wasn't actually used in the version that was aired to the world. Grunting Hermione heaved the stuffed laundry hamper from the middle of her living room, to the bathroom, hoping that Malfoy wouldn't have to use it. Straightening the couch to hide her bed from view Hermione stared glumly at her cramped quarters. _Teachers are soooo underappreciated _she thought as she finally straightened up. Satisfied with the arrangement of the sofa, Hermione slumped down on her bed and stared morosely out of the dark window. She cursed ever inviting Malfoy over, her brain could list a million reasons why this was a bad idea

_One. He is Draco Malfoy._

_Two. It's not worth it, he'll just say something sarcastic and leave as soon as possible…_

_Three. He probably won't even want to enter the rooms of a' mudblood'._

_Four. He is so freakin' rude._

_Five. Arrogant bastard._

_Six. I don't wannnnnnnt him to come, no wait. I'm a grown up. Retake._

_SIX. I do not wish for him to come._

_Seven. It's Draco bloody Malfoy.._

_Eight. I bet he doesn't even have anything worthwhile to say._

_Nine. I'm too tired for this._

_Ten. After Ron's letter today… no, don't think about that bastard. _

_Eleven. It's Draco Malfoy. Umm… hello? Arch nemesis?_

_Twelve…_

Stopping herself before she actually got to a million, Hermione sighed. Convinced, more than ever, that this had been a bad idea, Hermione cursed Malfoy yet again and hoped against hope that he would decide not to show up. _I'm not even going to be angry. I swear._

oooooooooooooooo

Minerva lifted her head from where she was resting on her desk. Half the portraits were genuinely asleep as well. The grating of her stone staircase moving had alerted her. Just as Minerva replaced the last stray stand of hair, Draco Malfoy walked in with his students trailing him.

_His students. _Minerva thought, with an internal smile. However fruitless this night was, at least Draco was starting to take a keener interest – not just in his subject – but in his students as well. Blinking away the remnants of an already fading dream from her eyes, Minerva stood up. Greeting each student by name, Minerva sat back down. She had done her homework, _let's see if they have done theirs._

After a heartbeat of silence, Draco started the inevitable. He began with the introductions while the group of students settled around him explored the office with curious eyes.

"We are here Minerva, as I have already informed you, about the incident that occurred at breakfast this morning. Frankly, I myself don't know the details of the plan that… my… students have come up with, but I would advise that we listen with an open mind and give them a chance. Who knows, the Gryffindors may actually use their heads for once." Minerva watched in surprise as the three Gryffindor students present in the room flashed their teeth in a grin, taking the joke in good spirit.

"I am ready, if you care to begin." Minerva replied crispy, still not ready to forgive the group the precious moments of rest they were robbing her of.

Everyone turned their eyes to Fabian, expecting him to lead. Gulping Fabian looked at all the portraits listening in, most of them awake and alert now. The Sorting Hat coughed, as if prompting Fab to speak. Steeling his jumpy nerves, Fabian began.

"Well… Headmistress, umm Professor. I.. we… do not have any proof of this, but we are confident that this whole drama was hatched by the criminal mind of Alexander Aurey, I am sure you know of him?" Fabian's voice, growing steadily more confident, paused. At Minerva's nod of acknowledgment towards his question, Fab continued. Slightly more at ease.

"Well, Alexander is a rather vain person. Someone who will want to be praised and glorified for the prank he pulled. The best way to flush him out would be if someone confessed to the crime – thereby earning all the acknowledgement. Knowing Aubrey, he would not be able to stay silent while someone else gets the reward for his efforts and so the rat will be flushed out!"

After a few moments of silence, one in which practically every eye was on Fab's slightly flushed face. Just as Fab was about to excuse himself for the plan that was obviously stupid, the students started patting him on the back. Draco's lips were graced with a slight upward tilt, pride clear in his mirror like eyes.

"That is indeed a clever plan Mr. Prewett."

As happy looks were shared around the room, Minerva elaborated.

"I am sure, that as this is your plan, you would be comfortable with taking the blame – as long as needed – for whoever decorated that table. Are we agreed?"

A look of apprehension flashed briefly across Fab's features, like a butterfly fluttering to a flower momentarily before flitting away, on it's way.

"Of course Headmistress, I would be urm.. not happy… but rather obliged to take on the role of the imposter."

With that the meeting drew to a close, everyone relieved.

Minerva glanced at the clock, thinking about her welcoming bed chamber. Rowena thought of the party that would still continue for quite some time, she would make it. Fabian's thoughts were muddled, torn between a feeling of excitement mixed in with nervousness.

Draco… the only thought he had as he stood silently on the stone staircase – for the second consecutive night – was concerning Hermione Granger.

Whether to pay her a visit or not.

As Draco broke off from the chattering group and headed in the opposite direction, he decided that it was time to retire to bed. It's not like Granger's opinion of him affected him at all.

Still, as Draco closed his stressed lids to the world, he had a lump in his throat. Something that felt uncomfortably close to guilt and regret. But it was too late to go a knocking at her door.

As the lone candle on the table spluttered out, Hermione looked up from the book she was reading. Leaving 'Tales of Beedle the Bard', the book Dumbledore had left her, on the floral patterned sofa, she got up and retrieved the waxy remains left on the saucer. Dusk had faded and night had deepened as Hermione had waited for Draco. Sighing, half in relief and half in something she couldn't quite place, she smiled a thin smile. As if to say 'I told you so' to her conscious. With a flick of her wand, Hermione brushed open the curtains that barred the window of her room. Immediately the silver light from the full moon washed over the room, transforming the unremarkable room into a surreal landscape. Hermione, oddly silent – not wanting to disturb the peace of the room – crept to her bedside cabinet. In the bottom drawer lay a pile of letters, held together by a piece of fraying string. Preparing herself for a long night, Hermione pulled out the heavy bundle and laid it across her lap as she settled, cross legged on the loveseat beneath the window. The string unravelled with one tiny tug, leaving the letters free on her lap. Hermione couldn't help but compare the fragility of the string to that of life – how simply one's life can go so off track…. One mistake and all that one holds dear disappears. Shuffling through the chronologically ordered letters, Hermione reached the oldest one, not old enough to be yellowed but still dating back a while. Taking a deep preparatory breath, Hermione lifted the letter from its brethren, with trembling fingers, to put in the direct path of the rays from the luminescent moon.

The already opened envelope read quite simply;

_To Hermione,_

_From Ron._

Hermione slid out the delicate letter from within, the ink marks faded in some spots with handling. As she had done many times before, Hermione started reading. Although she could recite the contents by heart, the sight of the writing comforted her… reminding her of past times.

_Dear Hermione,_

_Before you burn this with your anger please please please accept my apologies. I know that I should have been back days ago, but the port key got delayed and then Charlie invited me to stay a bit longer and then Ginny and Harry turned up and you know how it is. Harry says hello, he and Ginny have gone to the countryside for a picnic. The Department of Transport here in Romania has assured me that the next port key will be ready within the day and I should be back home with you this time tomorrow. Please give Errol a treat or two… if this reaches you that is because that bloody hand-me-down bird is likely to die on its way. Anyway, Charlie's back and I'll tell you everything about my trip tomorrow. Have I mentioned that the weather in Romania is bloody terrible? Anyway… I love you._

_Missing you,_

_Your Ronald_

That had been the start of it all the trouble.

Hermione turned away from the letter, not wanting to stain the old ink further with her tears. She could imagine Ron writing this, four years ago. She could imagine his hair falling in his eyes as he hastily inked the words. She could imagine him telling Charlie to 'wait a sec' as he finished the letter off, hesitating before adding the shy 'I love you' in at the end. She had been so in love. Merlin, THEY had been so in love. Yet, things had already started to change. After the war, Ron and Hermione had started a torrid romance – fuelled by seven years of pent up tension. It had come to the point where Hermione blushed profusely just hearing his name. This letter had been sent during Ron's first trip away after they had gone official. Of course they had been letters before this, but this was the first time he had said he loved her, so she had kept it. Hermione was sentimental like that. And Ron was accidentally adorable like that as well. He wrote Hermione letters often, not caring if he was going to see her in a few hours. That was what she loved about him – his spontaneity and innocence. But she had not counted on this spontaneousness leading him away from her. When she had first received the message, Hermione had been glad that Ron had company, but over the years she had realised that this was the first real sign of her being pushed out of the trio. Of Ginny taking over the two people she loved the most. Wiping the tears Hermione moved on to the next letter, dated a few months after this one. All the love notes in the middle, Hermione had stashed somewhere – she didn't throw them away, but this was a special bunch of letters, these were the ones that reminded her how she had been deserted, how things had gone terribly wrong.

_To dearest Hermione_

_From your Ronald_

_My Hermione,_

_I am about to see you in a few hours and I cannot wait! I hope you have packed fully because I want to leave for Paris IMMEDIATELY. This is going to be so much fun! I can't wait to show you the Eiffel Tower and we can have lunches in those cute French cafes and we can take boat rides and…. Well you get the idea. Thinking about this makes me want to lift you up and spin you around! I know that we haven't had much time for ourselves what with the Prophet hounding us, Mum's dinners and Ginny and Harry troubles but…. I can't wait. This will be me, you and the love in the air. Cheesy, I know, but that's why you love me! OK, I changed my mind, I'm coming over right now! So this will probably get to you AFTER our passion on the couch if you get my drift…. Ready or not here I come!_

_Love you beyond belief_

_Yours, simply and always_

_Ron_

The ghost of a grin crossed Hermione's lips as she remembered the 'passion on the couch'. Ron had been the best boyfriend, attentive and loving. Understanding and handsome. Once again Hermione tortured herself as she imagined the excitement in Ron's movement as he would have scribbled this letter. At this stage, making innuendoes and theatrically declaring his love came easily to Ron. Something that she didn't complain about. _If only the trip had gone as planned… If only that day had been as perfect as we imagined… If only…_ With a mental kick, Hermione jerked herself out of that line of thought. 'If only's led only to regret and grief for what might have been. Gently placing the letter on top of the previous one, she reached for the next one.

_Sorry_

_Ron_

Oh she remembered this one well, a frown gracing her slightly wrinkled forehead, Hermione forged on.

_Hermione,_

_I am so so so sorry. Please let me explain. I'm coming over._

_Still love you_

_Ron_

It was more the confrontation that was memorable rather than the one line scrawled on the parchment. After the 'bonding' on the couch, Ron and Hermione had settled for coffee and begun to chatter about the trip to France. As Ron enthused, Hermione watched him, the curve of his lips every time he grinned, the eyes that lit up every time he met hers, the fringe that kept falling in his eyes as he impatiently brushed it away. Alas, this happy time had been interrupted with a fireplace call from Ginny. She had popped in for a millisecond, screamed at Ron to get to her place and disappeared again. Ron had given her one apologetic look and Flooed away.

One tear fell. Twinkling like a pearl as the light from the moon reflected off it.

_He hadn't even said good bye._

The second one fell. Falling close to the first one, but in the shadow… a dome of darkness.

_He hadn't even thought to take her with him, completely forgetting that she had as much right to be there as he did when it came to Harry and Ginny._

A third one fell, landing unfortunately close to the first drop of salty water. As the tear dropped onto the original one, they both exploded in a splash of droplets. Leaving behind no trace of each other, both obliterated. On the macroscopic level, Hermione didn't even notice.

_His lovingly written 'Paris' letter had arrived as soon as he left._

Hermione broke down sobbing, much like she had done that day, four years ago, on her coffee table.

The apology letter had arrived two days later, seconds before Ron himself turned up at her door, begging to be let in. She had glared in icy silence as he made himself a cup of tea and settled into the couch. She couldn't help but picture the scene in her mind.

"_Hermione…" Ron had uttered, before being interrupted by her._

"_Just shut up Ron. Firstly you walk out on me, leaving me to cancel the trip by myself. You know how embarrassing it was? That bloody witch sniggered the whole time! Secondly, no word from you for two whole days! What was I meant to think? I called Ginny's but no would reply, Harry's apartment was empty! At least you could have written me one of your freakin letters! Merlin Ronald! Do I need to have a sign that says 'I'm still here' for you to remember me? Or will a memo every couple of hours do? I swear. This is the last time you two leave me behind." She had ended in a shriek. Crookshanks, now old and creaky had covered his head with his tail. _

"_You don't like my letters?" Ron had mumbled. After a moment of stunned silence Hermione had lost it._

"_You have the nerve to turn this around on me? Don't you DARE try to be the victim here! You know what? Get out. I can't do this right now. Go." _

_When Ron had stared at her without moving, Hermione had lifted her wand._

_At this gesture Ron had come to her and demanded that she stop acting ridiculous at which point Hermione had shrieked at Ron to 'Get. Out. Of. Her. Fucking. House. Ronald', punctuating each word with a pillow that she had picked when Ron had plucked her wand out of her hands. _

Fair to say Ron had been furious. Harry had been furious-er. Harry had turned up at Hermione's house with flowers and tickets to her favourite ballet – Swan Lake – apologising profusely and claiming that he had assumed she was in Paris waiting for Ron to return. He was pissed at Ron for not telling him that Hermione didn't know and for not telling Hermione in the first place. It was at this point that Hermione had inquired what exactly this emergency was – in the midst of screaming at Ron and pushing him out of her house – Hermione had forgotten to ask him exactly.

Harry had told Hermione that he and Ginny had bought a flat together. They had needed Ron to help move. Predictably Hermione was silent all through the ballet and afterwards, giving Harry a quick congratulations hug, before rushing into her own room.

The Harry she was friends with would have told her first thing, demanded that she was present, not just assumed that she was 'in Paris, waiting for Ron'.

Hermione knew in the back of her mind that she had slightly over reacted, but the prospect of her two best friends casting her aside _so easily _after everything was heart wrenching. In a way, the simplicity of the reason for Ginny's call made Ron's lack of response more hurtful. If had been something drastic Hermione might have forgiven him for forgetting her, but she was sure he might have found a few seconds in midst of packing to Floo call her at the very least. Shoving aside the thoughts that she should go easy on the two boys, Hermione had fallen asleep amid thoughts of fury and betrayal.

Back in the present, Hermione skipped through the next dozen or so letters. After the incident, Ron and her relationship had returned to a semblance of normalcy. All the letters were the usual deal, with slight mentions of Ginny and Harry, but mostly about normal life and upcoming dates. Hermione's fingers faltered as she reached a particularly thick letter. It was so thick because she had crammed three letters into it; the package was just a bigger envelope with three smaller ones inside it. She gingerly lifted it. She hadn't read these in a while. She slid out the first one.

_To my lucky charm_

_From Ron_

_Hermione!_

_I GOT IT! I was so worried about the try out, I was sure I would stuff up. You wouldn't believe it but I could almost hear Slytherin's singing 'Weasley is our King' in my head… not the flattering version. But then the coach threw me the Quaffle and it was like they were in slow motion! I caught every single one! Coach was impressed and he called me on Monday to do all the legal stuff. This is all because of you! You told me I would get it, and I did. Better than felix felicis you are, my very own, personal luck magnet. Merlin, what would I do without you woman! I just have to go to my uniform fitting and then I'll be right over. I will see you soon!_

_Love, love and more love_

_From your very own Quidditch player,_

_Keeper for the Chudley Cannons, Ron_

The self-imposed, magnanimous title that irked Hermione to no end now used to be endearing and cute back in the early days. Ron had apparated outside her house wearing his flamboyant orange uniform robes. He had flown in and swept her into a waltz, moving to imaginary music in his head. Their laughter still echoed piercingly in her head. They had then gone to an inconspicuous muggle restaurant for a romantic candlelit dinner. Unfortunately, halfway through, Harry and Ginny had popped in and Ron had abandoned Hermione, preferring to chat to Harry about the team and their chances in the upcoming season. Ginny had smiled sweetly at Hermione before apologetically joining in with the Quidditch talk, leaving Hermione to push her pasta around her plate. Ron and Hermione had gone back to hers since Ron was practically half moved in anyway, Hermione hadn't had the heart to pop Ron's bubble by informing him how left out she felt nowadays and so she had reluctantly kept her mouth shut. Truthfully, she didn't think Ginny was doing this on purpose, not in the beginning anyway. In her mind it was more the other two to blame.

Sighing Hermione squeezed her shut, breathing hard. As the air rushed out of her throat – raw from crying, Hermione sank back against the cool stone wall supporting her back. Unwillingly she drifted into a restless slumber, exhausted from the mental pressure of reviving these immensely painful memories. The letters lay beside her, oblivious to the weight of the grief they had caused the gently dozing witch lying beside them.

Hermione jolted awake as the first rays of the sun started warming the freezing glass of the window. The glazed look of lingering sleep only left her eyes when as Malfoy's elf popped in front of her.

"Miss Granger, Pepper is sorry if she woke you up. But Professor McGonagall sent Pepper to tell you that classes are cancelled today, they will be made up for on Saturday and so you can do whatever you want to."

Hermione questioned Pepper as to the reason for this unexpected turn of events. The only reply the hyperactive elf gave before rushing away was;

"Pepper doesn't know Miss, but she has to go now and tell her Master Draco the same thing. Ta ta."

**A/N: Now that you have read it, please be kind enough to review :) **


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: For anyone still reading… Sorry. :) ?**

**Chapter 11: Meeting new people…**

It took a dazed Hermione a few seconds to focus on the empty air left by the elf when she had vanished. Shaking her head, Hermione sat up and brushed the curls out of her face. With the thoughts of a haircut in mind, Hermione decided to treat herself to a long bath… after all it was very early in the morning and last night hadn't exactly been peaceful and relaxing. Ignoring the fact that out of the three days she had been here, she had had two baths already. After all it was London, it was bloody raining all the time… it's not like there was a water shortage. Stopping to ruffle Crookshanks' matted fur; Hermione grabbed some clothes randomly from her cupboard and started the water. Hermione had been looking forward to class, it would have been a nice time away from her own depressing company… but fate was not on her side.

She would just have figure out what to do with herself. Involuntarily, her mind drifted to free afternoons spent with Harry and Ron in their school years. Most of time was spent brewing potions in girl' toilets, shadowing Slytherins, playing Quidditch or studying under the tree. Unfortunately none of those options were available to her now. It was slightly bittersweet… back in school but not able to do the everyday things that had become second nature to students. A part of Hermione expected to have the privileges… and the setbacks, of being a student, but wishful thinking never worked so Hermione resigned herself to being at Hogwarts… minus the whole experience. The tub was full by now, stepping in Hermione sighed. More depressed than ever she ducked her head to submerge herself completely in the comfortingly warm water, in an attempt to drown out the world.

oooooooooooooooooooooo

As the loud 'crack' resounded through his chambers, Draco fell out of bed in surprise. Opening his eyes, he sat up rubbing his head. In front of him stood Pepper, her grin not as wide as usual – _probably because she wouldn't be able to jump on my bed to wake me up now._ Draco was proved wrong instantly as Pepper skipped up on the mattress and started jumping. An amused Draco lounged down on the sofa and laughed, he really did love the elf.

"Master Draco! Master! Look!" The elf shrieked as she hopped down from the now messy bed. She enthusiastically pointed at a brooch that was pinned to her smock; it appeared to be a cauldron.

"Yes Pepper, very nice. Now tell me, what in the name of Merlin are you doing here so early? Please tell me it wasn't just to show off that brooch." Malfoy asked, stifling a yawn, he still wasn't a morning person… not one bit.

"Well Master, Pepper came to tell you that the Headmistress has cancelled classes today. She said that everyone can do whatever they wish too. Pepper would have come before, but she had to tell Miss Granger as well but she was still asleep and then I had to wake her up and she was asking all these questions but Pepper told her Master. Pepper told her that Pepper needed to come visit you now. And I did! Headmistress will be happy with me. And all the other elves as well… Maybe they will finally stop calling me the Malfoy's elf. You know master? They don't allow me to do anything other than cook. Oh how Pepper wishes to clean the great hall… the windows are so pretty and it's no nice being out of the kitchen. The only reason I was allowed to be the messenger today was because Headmistress especially requested me… Master… Do you think I could go visit Mistress Malfoy someday soon? I miss her terribly."

The sudden request at the end surprised Draco. He hadn't expected Pepper to get sentimental so soon! It had not even been a week. He knew he couldn't allow Pepper to visit his mother, Narcissa would find a way to keep her there and Draco had promised McGonagall a new kitchen elf. Bracing herself for Pepper's outburst, Draco tried to let her down gently.

"Pepper, yes it would be nice if you could visit Mother. But the kitchen is so busy and I need you here with me. Don't worry, we'll both go back home after this term is over. And Pepper, if you go back now you'll miss all the upcoming feasts! Yes, the end of term feast and the Christmas feast. Hogwarts celebrates Christmas with gusto! Don't you want of part of that?" Draco attempted to appease Pepper. When she still looked ready to argue, Draco came up with a streak of genius to distract her, tell himself that this had nothing to do with his own personal interest, he blurted out.

"So Pepper, you said dropped by Hermione's before this?"

Pepper jumped at the open question, the little elf liked nothing more than to express her views and opinions.

"You see Master, Miss Granger was looking so tired when she woke up. Pepper felt horrible. Oh the state of her! You know, she was half slumped in that loveseat, surrounded by all this paper. Oh Pepper just wanted clean it all up and whisk up a pot of hot tea for the poor girl. Don't tell anyone Pepper said this, but if you ask Pepper's own personal opinion… I think Miss Granger did a lot of crying before going to bed…" Pepper's voice dropped down to a conspiratorial whisper as she confided the secret to her Master. Draco looked slightly uncomfortable, he never did well tears – that was what had driven him away from home, his mother's tears. Draco sent Pepper back to the kitchen – the house elf obliging happily – and settled down to read the day's Daily Prophet. Everyone needed their gossip fix.

oooooooooooooooooooooooo

While taking the time – the first in a long while – to gently work through the tangles in her hair, Hermione continued thinking of where to go. She decided that today was just the weather for a nice picnic outside… well minus the chequered blanket and the picnic basket. Finally defeating the last knot, Hermione ran the brush through her now slightly less curly hair a final time before tying it up, away from her face. Hermione was dressed perfectly for the day, wearing a white summer dress that breezed around her knees. Hermione picked up a book she was currently reading – a relaxed time wasn't possible for Hermione without familiar words soothing her. Armed with the paperback, Hermione headed out of her chamber, the door closing behind her with a gentle thud. As Hermione wandered down the hallway towards the staircase, she 'bumped' into Nearly Headless Nick – meaning she walked right through him and experienced an intense cold seep into her bones, gripping her in its vices. It passed however and she swivelled around to face the perpetrator, realising it was Nearly Headless Nick.

"Sir Nicholas! How are you? Where have you been? I haven't seen you at all since I've been here!" Hermione exclaimed, half accusingly, she was very happy to see an old friend, one she associated strongly with her own past as Hogwarts.

"Well, Miss Granger. As per every year, I had my Deathday Feast a few nights ago… Let's just say it took a while hustling everyone out of there and cleaning up and everything. I can't trust those elves with anything! I had to float there and watch them carry out the cake, last year they smeared all over the velvet curtains when I wasn't looking! Clumsy oafs! The Headless Hunt is slowly warming to me though; I have taken to thinking of sports that can be played, not just with a completely separated head, but with also a nearly severed head as well! But enough about me! Tell all Miss Granger, what brings you back to Hogwarts?"

Hermione wasn't in the mood to 'tell all' to Nick just then. She would rather enjoy her day without having to think about unpleasant memories. So she quickly excused herself with an abrupt 'Oh, just a new job' and hurried out of there without a backwards glance.

Downstairs, in the Entrance Hall, she met a few students who were actually awake. Waking vaguely at them she stepped out into the sunshine and took a deep breath. Despite the fact that last night had been such an… emotional time, she was ready for some carefree relaxing. Hermione let her legs carry her, going where the wind took her so to speak. Hermione passed the herbology greenhouses. Faint squeaks issued from the nearest building, Hermione assumed it was this year's batch of Screechsnap creating a racket because they had been given too much dragon manure. Those plants were such spoiled brats and Hermione didn't approve of how lenient Professor Sprout was with them, but then again that was why Pomona was the Herbology teacher and Hermione wasn't. The noise faded behind her as Hermione neared the Quidditch pitch. The dedicated players were practising there. Hufflepuff by the looks of it. Hermione steered away from the pitch, still a bit vary of flying.

Moving on she walked in silence gazing around her without seeing. The Whomping Willow was thrashing about, trying to snag a few blackbirds. Sadly Hermione remembered third year, when the trio had snuck into the Shrieking Shack through the very same tree. Crookshanks had turned out to be one smart cat that year. Abruptly Hermione stopped… and gasped. Her feet had led her right to next to the Black Lake, in front of a monument that she hadn't expected. Hermione's mind was torn between conflicting emotions. She was feeling guilty for not having visited before but at the same time she was scared… she didn't want to face this! Maybe that's why she had avoided it since she had arrived at Hogwarts. Hermione took a shuddering breath and realised that her cheeks were damp with tears.

She took a tentative step forward and was within touching distance of Dumbledore's grave.

oooooooooooooooooooooooo

Draco was restless. He paced around his chambers, pausing to stand in front of the mirror momentarily – to glare at his reflection. He was feeling… something. He just didn't know what it was, hence the pacing and the glaring. The building tension finally shattered as Draco threw the candle next to him down on the ground in a fit of frustration. He watched the candle splutter momentarily before continuing to burn completely ignoring the rug underneath which – under normal, non-magic circumstances – should have burst into flame. Resigned, Draco picked up the candle and put it back on the bedside table. The only way to kill this flame was with a wand. Without him knowing, Draco's brain clicked onto the solution to his problem. He had to talk to Granger.

Draco's usual morning ritual included a significant time spent on his hair; he was a vain man and meticulously did his hair every morning. Today however, poor Draco hurried out of his chambers that he surpassed the mirror altogether, leaving his hair in a disarrayed state which – to be honest – looked just as intentional as his normally slicked back do. As usual, not a soul was out and about in the depressing dungeons. All the Slytherins were in their common room or asleep, relieved that they wouldn't have to go through the bullying and the taunts today. Draco walked through the empty hallway up to the Entrance Hall. Looking up at the hourglasses, Draco realised that Slytherin was coming last, by far. He resolved to change that… soon.

Outside, in the supple light, Draco breathed in deeply. He enjoyed being outdoors, but at home, he seldom got the chance what with meetings and lawyers and mother. And besides, the whole Malfoy Manor was surrounded by an odd shadow… true that tall trees grew all through the grounds and provided a cool shade but sometimes Draco couldn't help thinking that it was the aftermath of the terrible atrocities that had taken place in the old manor. Narcissa had locked the regal dining room where Voldemort had mainly resided. Instead, the family used the less elaborate dining room consisting of a simple wooden table and enough seats for six. It was homier but Father always looked pained when sitting there. If Draco had been more snobbish, he would also have resented being in the 'lesser' room instead of the lavishly decorated place that boasted of the Malfoy fortune but Draco wasn't. So that was that.

Draco paused at the Quidditch pitch. The Hufflepuff team was practicing. _A game must be coming up… I should find out how Slytherin does at Quidditch here. _Since he didn't know where Hermione was, Draco decided to indulge himself by watching the team play. In school, Draco hadn't played to his full capability. True he had made the team, but most of the time he was too busy trying to sabotage Potter instead of actually focusing on his own game. Also, as much the other Slytherins respected him… rather, his money – they dared not mouth off in fear of having their new brooms taken away – they didn't really use him much. To them Draco might as well have been a liability instead of a strong player. In fact, Draco could have made the team on his own talent, but Father had insisted on paying his way through the system, which resulted in the team not really trusting Draco's actual ability. _Hmm…. Their loss_ the older, more mature Draco thought. _It's not like they were smart enough to plan and win anyway._ With a hint of the old Draco thrown in for good measure. 

Watching the Hufflepuffs dive and swoop, lunge and throw, Draco wished he could be up there as well.

ooooooooooooooooooo

_Fabian Prewett's POV_

_Ok, calm down. You don't have a choice anymore. Just do it! It was your idea in the first place!_

These were the only words that aired through Fabian's head as he sat on his bed, ready to go downstairs and start the ball rolling. Today was the day that the plan was being put in motion, Professor McGonagall had chosen the day, she was having a Ministry visit the next day and she wanted everything to be resolved by then along with getting the school all clean and shiny. So today had been declared a holiday and everyone lounged around… that is if they were awake in the first place. Greg Jenkins was still in bed his ruffled hair poking out from under the blankets. Fab repeated the whole 'calm down' mantra to himself again. He was getting slightly breathless thinking about what he was about to do. He wasn't a shy person, not at all. Just the thought of everyone thinking wrongly of him started off the queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Fab had always been the good guy, everyone perceived him that way. If he came forward and claimed to have pulled the prank, everyone would think him a hypocrite since he was the one who always advertised being nice to the Slytherins. It was complicated. Sighing, Fab resigned himself to what had to be done… his only consolation being that once this was all over things could just go back to normal. Just as Fab slumped back into bed, Viktor Macmillan stumbled out of his. He had had a late night again last night. It took enormous self-restraint on Fab's behalf to stop himself teasing Vik about Camilla Bell. As Viktor started to pull on a shirt, Ro bounded into the boys' dormitory.

"Hey hottie" she greeted Viktor and punched him lightly on the shoulder.

"Hey Ro" Vik replied in his sleepy voice and enveloped her in a bear hug. By the time Rowena made her way out of his clutches so she could breathe, Greg was sitting up in bed.

"Hey Greg" she chimed before flopping down next to Fab on his bed. Fabian watched Vik make his way slowly down to the common room, no doubt to meet up with Camilla. To unsuspecting bystanders, Vik and Ro's treatment of each other would seem like flirting, which to be truthful, it was. But it was also completely harmless. The two had tried their hand at a relationship in Third Year but had gotten over that phase very quickly, instead settling into the roles of close and comfortable friends. Camilla sometimes got worried about Ro and Vik, understandably, but Fab didn't think there was anything there. Moments later Arabella showed up as well.

"I bumped into Viktor on the way up. Literally. Another late night with Cam?" Arabella commented to the room in general, the amusement in her voice was obvious. Pushing Fab over, she dropped down onto his other side so that now he was helplessly stuck between the two girls.

"You ready?" They both asked him at the same time, this occurrence was so common that they didn't even pause to laugh about it.

"Yeah I guess… I don't know. When I told McGonagall the plan, I didn't expect her to pick me! I guess I should have…" Fabian trailed off. He really didn't want to do this.

"It's ok Fab! You can do this, it's only pretending" Rowena exclaimed.

"And _we_ would know you didn't really do it!" Arabella elaborated.

"And you're not that good an actor so –" Ro started.

"– not everyone is actually going to believe that you did it!" Arabella finished.

"And imagine! At the end of it you'll be a hero! And not only to everyone –"

"– but to Helena as well" Arabella again finished Ro sentence, grinning, as both girls nudged poor Fabian in the side. Blushing furiously by now, he pushed off the bed and paced for a bit more. Arabella and Rowena watched him with laughter in their eyes; they knew his motto in life well by now. When in doubt pace.

All through this exchange Greg had set about getting ready for the day, studiously ignoring the trio and their obviously private conversation… or pretending to anyway. As the three finally decided to leave and go downstairs, Greg was right behind him.

Rowena noticed this and nudged Arabella who, in turn, dropped behind to walk next to Greg. All Fab could do was raise his eyebrow before Ro dragged him away by the arm.

They might be best friends, but there were still things about the girls that completely eluded Fabian Prewett.

oooooooooooooooooooooo

_In the Slytherin common room._

The common room was oddly silent. Because of the free day, most of the students hadn't woken up yet, and the ones that had were in their dorms or doing something quiet around the room. Huddles near the fireplace were four armchairs, occupied by Helena Horsefall, Victoria Greengrass, Montague Kiely and Marcus Flint [A/N: the Quidditch player, he really hasn't made much of an appearance so far]. The only Sixth Years in the whole house looked at each other and grinned. Today was the day that Alexander Aubrey would get what was coming to him.

"Do you think he'll be able to do it?" Vicky asked, in her usual subdued tones.

"Of course he will! It's his pride on the line here… after all he has to impress our Helen here, not really an easy thing to do!" Montague laughed as he teased Helena. She half-heartedly punched Monty on the shoulder, a rare smile gracing her lovely features.

"I can't believe I missed all that! Merlin, I would have loved to throw a couple of punches at some idiotic Gryffindors!" Marcus said. He had been at the hospital wing because of a bad spell. One of the Second Years had been practicing Rain making charms for Flitwick and had accidentally caused Marcus' hair and clothes to be dripping wet… constantly. Madam Pomfrey could fix the clothes problem… but didn't know how to dry the hair. Drying or heat charms didn't work. In the end, she just gave Marcus a bucket and let the water run out by itself… it had taken a while. So the young Slytherin had missed the whole Halloween drama at Hogwarts, but the other three had filled him in.

"Hopefully Fab pulls it off, it's up to him now…" Helena declared with a sense of finality.

Silent for the moment, the four friends stared at the fire contemplatively. Anticipation bubbling just under the surface…

ooooooooooooooooo

_Draco Malfoy's POV_

As the team disbanded for the day and the tired players headed back to the castle, Draco snapped out of his reverie. Taking a last longing look at the free, open sky, he climbed down from the bleachers. Reminded of his original task – of finding Hermione Granger – he lengthened his stride. He passed the Whomping Willow, its branches swaying in the air in a random pattern. Draco had never understood the cranky plant's psyche or frankly, even the point of it. He paused for a second, _Where are you Granger…_

In the distance he could see the gamekeeper's hut, puffy clouds of smoke drifting from the chimney, Hagrid was obviously awake. The Forbidden Forest lurked in the background, brooding in its shadows. Maybe Hermione was having tea with her old friend, Draco started making his way down the hill towards the little hut before halting mid step. _No. _He knew exactly where Granger would be. He hurriedly back tracked; amazed that he hadn't guessed her whereabouts before.

He half ran to the special spot next to the Black Lake where once the Mermish people had broken the barrier between the underwater world and the polluted air of above, where an illiterate giant named Grawp had bowed his head in grief at the death of a beloved man. Where he was sure he would find Hermione Granger crying.

Draco Malfoy did not once think why he was running, or even how in Merlin's name he knew where she would be.

All he could think was that he hated tears.

ooooooooooooooooo

_At Dumbledore's grave _

Hermione lifted her head from the side of the cool stone grave and snapped around, like a deer caught in harsh headlights. She had been sniffling quietly, her tears starting to slow down when a rustle of branches behind her had elicited the startled reaction. As Hermione hastily straightened her dress and stood up she stared at the ground, not willing to face the open stare of one Draco Malfoy.

As Draco stared at the dishevelled state of Hermione, his thoughts immediately went into slow motion. He had to say something, anything… but he couldn't. Why was he even here? He asked himself… a few minutes too late. He started to begin, he _had_ to say something. Now. Draco cleared his throat.

"Uh… I knew – " but was immediately cut off my Hermione as she finally met his gaze with puffy red eyes.

"What the hell are you doing here? Malfoy." The tone was clear, she wanted nothing to do with him.

"Exactly what I'm asking myself…" Draco mumbled, kicking himself for doing this. He should have just stayed in bed, it was after all his day off.

"Oh shut up! I can't deal with your mind games right now ok? I am, as you can see, slightly disturbed and would _very much _appreciate if you left me alone." She burst out emotionally; yet she still had a surprisingly good hold on her vocabulary. _Trust Granger to_ Draco couldn't help thinking.

"Listen, if you're mad about yesterday… I was caught up with McGonagall; sorry I couldn't make it…" Draco left off lamely. Hermione scoffed, in a genuine mocking way that stunned Draco, he hadn't expected Hermione to have turned so bitter in the six short years it had been… she had always been aggressive though, judging by the broken nose in their Third Year that Draco still remembered with a stab of pain.

"Yeah right, I'm bawling my eyes out here in front of the grave of my life long mentor because I got stood up by Draco freakin Malfoy. You know what? I can't even pretend I care because frankly, I don't. I was relieved when you didn't show up because I knew I would have nothing to say to you. Absolutely nothing. You are nothing but a self-centred, selfish, arrogant… you… there isn't even a word for what you are Malfoy. So please, just go away because I don't want to hex you here, I don't think Albus would appreciate it. Besides, as cut as I was last night I found.. other things to.. occupy my time." Hermione regretted the last bit as soon as it left her mouth. Not only did the stuttering ruin the whole effect, she was now sure that Draco would pick up on her uncomfortableness and dig in deep. Like the cruel, hurtful bastard he was. A few birds flew across the water, their chirping echoing across the still waters of the Lake, sounding louder in the silence after Hermione's yelling.

"Well in that case I guess I'll just… Granger?" Draco's retort was lost as he changed tack mid-sentence. Raindrop shaped tears were starting to flow down Hermione's cheeks again. Draco took a tentative step forward, unsure about his role now; in response Hermione took one back. Really awkward now Draco decided to abandon ship and leave the girl to her own devices. Draco had discovered, over time, that when Pansy got this teary, it was close to her 'time of the month'. And he tended to steer away from her during that week… so it was no surprise that Draco Malfoy about turned and started to head out of the little clearing, leaving Hermione Granger in a crying mess behind him.

"Stay." Hermione said simply, she didn't have the strength to disguise the emotion behind the single utterance, even Draco could see it plainly – that one word was brimming with desperation and need. The word sounded like a gunshot through the early morning and the silence after it was nearly deafening. And Draco stopped. And stayed. It was all he could do. So he once again changed his mind. He turned back around, and slid down next to Hermione where she was slumped against the marble. Silence reigned.

"So… are you always this emotional or are you having your period?" Draco said.

Hermione looked at him incredulously.

oooooooooooooooooooo

_In the Gryffindor common room_

Rowena and Fabian were sitting in a cramped corner of the common room, the best seats around the fireplace had been snagged by the older students and the comfy armchairs around them by the more popular kids, everyone else had been shunted to the far outskirts of the room so that the 'in kids' would have no danger of having their styles cramped. _As if._ Rowena thought, as she _very_ often did in situations like these. Arabella and Greg were standing next to the notice board, reading something. Fabian looked around furtively, from the corners of his eyes. He tried his best to remain relaxed, or at least try to _look_ relaxed anyway.

"Snarky Princess to Tall, Dark and Ugly. Come in Ugly." Rowena whispered. At which Fabian rolled his eyes, he knew she was just trying to make him feel more at ease and he was grateful for that… but that didn't mean it was actually working.

"Ok Fab, go!" Rowena said in mock urgency and then quickly sat back with her legs crossed nonchalantly and her arms draped on the back of her arm chair. Fab thought it looked a bit overdone, but Ro was enjoying herself, drama and crime fighting – she was livin' the dream… or she was just a drama queen. Either way, she couldn't wait to see the look on Aubrey's face when their plan unfolded and she was going to have fun on the way!

oooooooooooooooooooo

_Back beside the Black Lake_

"What the hell?" Hermione blurted, with a raised eyebrow.

"Not such a great conversation starter?" Draco enquired with a laugh.

"Yeah… no. Listen Malfoy I asked you to – " Hermione was cut off mid explanation as Draco interrupted her.

"Call me Draco."

She stared at him again.

"Yeah right!"

"We're meant to me mature individuals _Hermione._" Draco retorted, putting emphasis on Hermione's name to prove his point. She replied back instantly.

"We are being mature! If we weren't I wouldn't be here talking to my 'arch nemesis', so to speak, I would have punched you by now." Hermione said with a smirk.

"You are _not_ allowed to bring that up! That was ages ago!" Draco exclaimed.

"Did it hurt?"

"…Kinda" Draco reluctantly admitted.

"Well it felt _freakin' _good!" Hermine retorted with a chuckle.

They lapsed into silence again. The absurdity of the situation was starting to sink into both of them. Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger. Pureblood and Mudblood. Player and Nerd. Son of Death Eaters and Daughter of dentists. Head of Slytherin and DADA Assistant. In all walks of life, Draco and Hermione were complete opposites, fighting on different sides of the field. Yet they both were sitting here, _without_ their wands drawn at each other's throats. Hermione had no sane idea, what in the name of Merlin's saggy pants possessed her to ask _Draco Malfoy _of all people to stay. How could she have shown such weakness?

But she didn't care at the moment. Her nerves were raw from the hefty dose of painful memories that she had inflicted upon herself in the last twelve hours. Her windpipe was bruised and sore from all the forced breaths she had gulped in between sobs. In short... Hermione was over it, and if Draco was the only one who would sit with her and talk about random crap right now… so be it.

"Thank you" Hermione mumbled, beet red with the humiliation of having to rely on someone who hated her, especially when there was nobody else she could rely on.

Draco didn't answer nor did he acknowledge the gesture other than with a small smile…

…which Hermione was grateful for.

ooooooooooooooooooooo

_Gryffindor common room_

"… and then I snuck back in! Filch didn't even notice! Ha! Ha! Ha!" Fabian finished and looked around magnanimously. No one was paying attention.

"Ro! They aren't listening! What do I do now?" he implored.

"You idiot, speak louder. THAT was meant to be out attention grabber… all it grabbed was a couple of yawns. Now listen, relax. Sit back and just speak. Like that time when you hexed Aubrey and wouldn't stop boasting about it for a week, do it like that. And listen, if you laugh like that again, I will break your face."

"Fine." And so Fab began again, with a little cough/

"Ahem… SO! THEN I snuck back in! and that idiot Filch didn't even notice! Hahaha. He's getting as useless as that cat of his!"

This caught people's attention, they were looking around at Ro an him and muttering.

"Better?" Fab whispered from the corner of his mouth.

"A bit over the top… but at least the laugh wasn't as irritating?" Ro offered with a sympathetic smile, she knew that Fabian Prewett was many things, but drama queen – or rather king- wasn't one of the. That was more her forte.

"What are you on about Prewett?" A Fifth Year boy, Cody Smith, asked – his blue eyes wide and inquiring.

Just what Ro and Fab wanted, but Ro couldn't help but being slightly pissed with the lack of respect shown to them. True the boy was only one year lower but still…! Rowena remembered when were in Second Year or so, the deference they used when talking to the older students could be compared to worship… Gryffindors nowadays didn't have enough time to deal with menial things like respect, they were too busy congratulation themselves for being in the 'better' house. Ro understood the mentality… but that didn't mean she had to like it.

Fab shot Ro a troubled look, he hadn't expected such a direct response. Ro took over.

"Oh, nothing Cody. We wouldn't want Fabian getting into trouble you know."

"Trouble? Why would goody two shoes here get into trouble?" Cody asked, confused.

This really riled Fabian up, he was a good student yes, but he didn't like being teased about it.

"For your information Smith, goody two shoes had pulled of the biggest coup of the decade!" Fabia replied, indignant.

"Oh yeah? And what would that be? Charming all the suits of armour? Because if that was you, it's been done a hundred times already."

Fab didn't know what Cody was talking about, but continued on anyway.

"That! That's child's play. I, my dear friend, have finally shown the Slytherins what they are worth!" Fab declared, it was a line he had stolen from Aubrey.

"You mean it was –"

"Yes! It was, it was me, who singlehandedly set up the Slytherin table and then sat back to enjoy the looks on their faces. It was totally worth it!" Fab smiled. It was working. More and more people were starting to listen. Cody's eyes were as big as saucers. Gradually the wave of mutterings and whispers reached the fireplace and Alexander Aubrey slowly turned around.

Fabian met his furious gaze with a defiant one of his own. Deliberately Alexander glanced at the portrait hole and, with one last glare at Fab, he walked to the entrance and climbed out. Fabian smiled as Ro jumped up and pulled him towards the portrait hole as well. It was working.

**A/N: I'll have the next one on sometime… really uninspired right now *sigh***


End file.
